


Anything for 150 Reales

by Beatrix_Bilqis



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Drunkenness, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Illnesses, Loss of Virginity, Major Illness, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Sex, Sexual Violence, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-08-20 17:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 23,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrix_Bilqis/pseuds/Beatrix_Bilqis
Summary: Eveline is a simple girl who works alongside Anne Bonny, a dear friend and almost an older sister for her, at the Old Avery. Nothing special happens in her life, until she overhears a conversation she (maybe) shouldn't have listened to, and decides to risk her life for what she believes in. What she doesn't know is just how much this adventure will change her life, in more than one way.





	1. Eveline's Note

It was around lunchtime when Anne Bonny, who was cleaning the Old Avery's wooden tables, full of any kind of dirt, got a letter. At first she didn't pay it much attention, but then looked at the small and elegant calligraphy in which her name was written and immediately was able to put a face to it, and her face lost any color. Her hands trembled and were a bit sweaty, and didn't want to open the small envelope. She sat down, breathed a few times, and then opened it. This is what she read:

 

17th July, 1717

Dear Anne,

there are just so many things I need to tell you! I'm not even sure where to begin, to be honest with you. I'll just start by telling you that I'm not sure when you'll be able to hear from after this little note, but trust me, I'm pretty sure that it won't be any time soon. While you're reading this, I'm probably looking for that wretched Roberts. Knowing you, you must be wondering why I'm looking for trouble to the point of getting on that monster's ship, but don't fret: I'll explain everything. Everything started with him... Edward Kenway. I know, I know. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear you telling me: "Stop going after that man! He's no good for you! His only love is blunt, he enjoys to crack Jenny's cup a little too much for any decent man and, mostly important, he's a pirate! You're gonna end up in Davy Jones' Locker, straight after him, if you keep this insane infatuation for the rascal!". And you're right, I shouldn't go after danger, even more if it has "Edward Kenway" written all over it, but it can't be helped. I tried ignoring the fact, and it was too much of a burden for me to keep for myself, let alone not try to do something to avoid the most tragic event. You see, I heard something terrible, truly a disgrace if bound to happen. Do you remember the day you got drunk on the beach with James and Thatch? Well, around noon of that same day that goddamned Roberts, with an evident grog blossom, had the guts to show up at the Old Avery. Black Bart, cause of utter distress in my poor, beloved Edward. I felt disgusted, and was planning to reach you lot, until I heard him talking to one of his rats. "So, got any story to tell me?" "Ye do know Edward Kenway's after ye, right? Ye have to lay low, bucko: Vane, too, got interested in the Observatory and its whereabouts. Now ye got to run a rig on two dangerous men, if ye want to keep the wolf from the door. They're plotting something, I tell ye, and trust yer poor bucko, their ideas are usually smart, so ye must anticipate their moves. If ye don't step to somewhere else quickly, ye'll meet the rope's end for that, me bucko! Once ye plot something smart, come back here in Nassau, and make their lot pay!". Bartholomew didn't answer right after the man. He pondered a little, scratching his disgusting beard, then smiled to him, showing his crooked teeth, and said: "I see. Guess that little trip to Principe I had been planning for some time with Davis comes in handy, after all. Thanks, matey". And then proceeded to kill the man, right there, right on that spot. I am not sure how, he just laid a hand on the man's chest, and it started pouring blood after just a bunch of seconds. I sure heard a click, like a blade's one, but didn't see any weapon. I couldn't stand staying there any longer, not after hearing this, and felt the urge to kill the bilge rat with my own bare hands! Believe me, my dearest Anne, if nobody tries to stop him, he'll give no quarters! Down to the depths that despicable man, I'm not losing my beloved Edward! Rest assured, I'll see for myself that that man gets a hempen halter around his neck, and he'll be the one to die. This is my plan: I'll dress up as a man, I'll deceive his fellow crew, find out his plans and kill him! Now it's dawn outside, and the Princess is ready to sail to God only knows where. I know it won't be an easy task, I know there's a high chance for me to lose my life. But trust me, even if mine is a poor, little and pathetic life, I'd be more than happy to give it up in order to save someone I hold dear in my heart. I'm sure many things are bound to happen before I'll be able, if I'll be able, to complete my mission, but with every fiber of my being I hope and want to believe that I'll hold you in my arms again, my dearest friend. 

Farewell, for now

Eveline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter! As you must have already guessed, this is more of an introduction than the real beginning, since it will always be in the OC's POV, but you need to know this much to understand why Eveline decided to start her trip. She doesn't know just how much this will change her, and I hope to show it to y'all. Please be patient with me, smut will eventually come... for now, sorry for any English mistake! Feel free to comment and share your opinion. This is actually one of my old works, I just translated it and adjusted it a bit. See ya on the next chapters!


	2. Life aboard

Two months had passed since I sneaked into the Princess, and in less than one week we'd have reached Principe. Days were particularly hot, making my cross-dressing intolerable sometimes; I had my auburn locks cut, and covered what remained of it and my face with sand and dust, so that the scruffy result could cover up my feminine traits and my pale skin. I dressed up as one of them, binding my chest and wearing old and dirty clothes I "lent" from the Old Avery, where it wasn't rare of men to leave something behind, thanks to the excessive amount of rum many used to drink every night. 

Adapting to the sea life and mostly the life of a man wasn't an easy task, but here's where growing up with a father and two brothers come in handy. Father taught me many things related to the sea, since he and my brothers used to sail; that, of course, before the sea took them away from me. I was nine at the time, and I've been deadly afraid of the open sea ever since. But it fascinated me as well, always so blue and cool, so powerful and graceful at the same time. So while sailing usually scared me, I couldn't help but enjoy it as well, so nobody could ever notice my fear. Here on the Princess men were more open among themselves, usually getting naked in front of others and going for a swim when the waters were calm. I guess it was part of the "being part of a crew" thing. I always felt embarassed when other men got naked in front of me, and even envied them for being able to get naked and just throw some water over their bodies, while I just had to sweat in silence. 

Only one thing disturbed the somehow calm life aboard: the piracy part. Every time I heard the words: "Ahoy! Give no quarter to 'em and get all the blunt!" I felt cold through my bones, and a terrible sting on my nape, because I knew what followed: screams of terror, screams of anger, painful pleads, rumor of swords and pisols, and skin getting slashed. Those rumors haunted me every night, making me wake up trembling and sweating. I could never get used to that crimson red that covered us all after every battle. I usually tried to just get the money, and the less I had to draw my gun the happier I was. Many innocents and hostages usually lost their lives during the fight, along with comrades, so it always brought more sorrow than satisfaction. Every aspect of this side of sea life crawled inside our beds at night, wrapping around us as blankets, and even though many were already used to this kind of life, to many others it was still very gruesome. Black Bart had this peculiar sadist side, and usually kept around twenty hostages in the ship's hold, each one reeked of death and despair, like a creepy collection of precious statues. Didn't matter where they came from, if they were innocent or guilty, they all pleaded for their lives, and ended up in the same way. Not that the crew had better conditions. 

Even though Roberts had an incredibly attached crew, where everyone just did their best to survive and help out each other, he was just cruel with everyone. Once he had a ship's boy tied up alive in chains under the ship's figurehead, and he got eaten out alive by sharks and God knows what else. When they got up the corpse, it was barely a man's figure. That day I puked. Even though my ability had gotten me the chance to deal with sails and not with a mop, I had to lay low and try to have the others like me, so I stayed humble and helped out the ship's boys cleaning the hull in the evening. That was a precious chance to spy on Roberts as well, so I was catching two birds with one stone, and one night I was lucky.


	3. Roberts must die

"Down to the depths that Kenway! Still blinded by the blunt's mirage! All horse shit, I tell ye!" I heard Black Bart say. "Whatever it is, he's after ye, Cap'n. He's already anticipating the day he gets you to dance the hempen jig" replied Davis. "Aye aye, he won't get me anyway. I already got a plan, ye see" "What's it about, Cap'n?". I heard Bart's wretched laughter, and I could almost see that crooked smile of his: "Oil". "Oil?" "Aye, ye heard me right. The ancient Greeks had this formula for an oil used during sea battles, they poured it in the water and set it on fire. Very powerful, and its formula got lost many centuries ago, so we'd be the only ones to have such weapon on our side". "But, how is it possible to have its formula, if it got lost?" "Of course I have me sources, ye imbecile. Now shut ye hole and listen". I heard rumors of papers being unfolded, a map maybe. "This is an island near Principe, which has a handy natural gulf. We're gonna head there, and wait for Kenway. Two mubs will go on each side of the gulf, and pour this oil on the water. Once the Jackdaw will get inside, they will set it on fire. They'll be trapped between fire and cannons. We'll crush them like the rats they are". "Seems like a good plan, Cap'n, but I don't think we'll have enough cannons to deal with 'em: I heard he got mortars and other nasty things". "We'll have a little help from the portuguese ships docked all around Principe. We'll steal a bunch, and use those against Kenway". "One last thing, Cap'n. I'm not sure this 'oil' thingy is something a mub will be able to prepair, so how's gonna that part of the plan work?". "I had six barrels marked with a red cross prepared and embarked, they'll just have to wait for my signal in order to set it on fire". 

That was more than enough, if I stayed one second more I'd have ruined my plan and just dashed in Robert's room, trying to kill him. I waited two days after I heard the plan, in order not to get Roberts suspicious. I woke up in the middle of the night, when the others were still sleeping, and looked for the red crossed barrels. I found them all, and threw them away, keeping just a little amount inside a small flask hidden inside the pendant I always wore under my binder, hoping to get it to Edward. After getting rid of the oil, I headed for the captain's chamber. I wanted to kill him. 

I quietly sneaked inside, careful to close the door behind me. The room was dark, so Roberts had to be sleeping, making my job easier. I took out the knife I kept tied on my leg, and headed for his bed. My heart was beating like crazy, because I was about to kill a man, and I silently praied that the beating wouldn't wake the bastard up. I reached the bed, and carefully took the covers with one hand, ready to remove them and stab the figure under them, but then something went wrong: I removed the covers, but Robert's body wasn't there, there was the corpse of one of the hostages from the hold. I quickly ran for the door, but something grabbed my leg, making me fall. I looked around, but didn't see a thing. I tried to take my gun out, but the holster was empty. Damn him. I was sitting with my back on the door, and suddenly I felt the air move on my left side. I turned around and shook the hand with the knife around, trying to get him. Something hit me hard on the back on my head, and I found myself lying on the ground. 

I fought with every inch of my being the fainting sensation, and tried to get the knife I had dropped when I got hit. I reached it, but then a leather and blood covered boot got on my hand, squeezing it. I wanted to shout, but my voice got stuck in the back of my throat. Those horrible boots were the last thing I saw, because everything went black and I fainted.


	4. Under the sun

The sunlight woke me up after God knows how long; it was the middle of the night when I entered Bart's room, so I was knocked out at least some hours for sure. My eyesight couldn't quite catch up with the brightness, so I shut them and tried to cover them with my hands, only to find out that my arms were tied over my head with a rope. It was Roberts I was dealing with, so I should have seen this coming. I squeezed my eyes a little, and tried to look at my legs, only to find them tied as well, both to a different part, so that I was laying down with my legs spread open. I didn't like this, because knowing who tied me up, it was easily predictable what he was planning. After all, he and his crew hadn't seen a woman in a very long time, and one had had the brilliant idea of dressing up as a man and hide among them. 

I was under a white tent, laid on a white linen mat, and tied to many heavy sustains for the construction. It was very hot, and judging by the shadows it was around midday, or so. Just how many hours was I out? It felt like forever, to be honest. I bit my lip out of anger, why in heavens did I fall for one of his idiotic tricks, after about a month and a half I had spent spying on him every night while helping with the evening cleaning round, and able to learn his behaviour? It was very stupid of me, there were no excuses. 

"Good morning, sweetheart" greeted me a voice who was faking tenderness just to make a fool out of me. "Piss off Roberts" I said without looking at him. "Now now, not a morning lass, are we?" chuckled, offering me his typical crooked and disgusting smile. "I have great plans for ye, so I hope ye got some good rest" said after, still mocking me with a fake gentle behaviour. "Blimey, I'd rather dance the hempen jig than to make yer life easier by doing as ye say. After all, ye're not me captain anymore!" I answered right back, spitting on the ground next to me. He didn't seem to like my rebellion in the slightest: his smile disappeared, and just stared coldly at me. I couldn't stand his gaze, which was making my skin crawl and my bones tremble, so I looked at my feet. He dashed in front of me, taking my jaw in one of his hands, and squeezing it so tightly that it really hurt me. I shut my eyes immediately, waiting for the worse to happen. 

I felt his hot breath and the terrible smell of rum all over my mouth and my nose, but he didn't say a single word. I opened my eyes once again, just to meet his dark eyes. His gaze always gave me a creepy vibe, but in that moment it made me feel terrified. I knew what he had up in mind, but the fact that he was delaying, toying with me was the worse part of the torture, because I knew that the worse had yet to come, and God only knew what would have been this 'worse part'.

"What, ye gonna kill me?" I asked chuckling, even though I knew that wasn't his plan. But I hoped with every fiber of my being that he would have just ended my suffering. "Oh, ye know I won't. It would be a waste, and ye know that I don't like to waste things. No, I have some better plans for ye, dear" answered him, looking up and down my body whilst licking his lips. I still had a shirt and some pants on, but he removed my chest binder and everything that could hide my femininity, and even took the trouble to wash my face and my short hair, untying them and letting them fall on my shoulders. I had cut the greatest part, but also didn't want to look male even in front of my beloved Edward, so I didn't cut them too short. Maybe it was a mistake, but it didn't really matter now, even though I wasn't really sure why he took so much trouble to make me look like a girl. It was just a waste of time, nothing useful for his plans. Unless, of course, I had understood correctly what his intentions were, and now I wasn't so sure anymore.

The silence between us was too much for me to bear, so I asked him: "What do ye want to do with me?". He stood up, still looking down at me, but didn't say a thing. "Barrow!" he called. "What is it, Cap'n?" asked a member of the crew. Still looking at me, he said "This is the merch. Charming, ain't it? Bites and curses a little, but it just makes the whole meal more spicy. Tell the 'gentlemen' to come here, the auction's starting soon". "Aye, Cap'n" the man said, nodding and looking at me. My eyes widened. Everything started spinning around me, and I felt that familiar burn on my nape, but in every other part of my body I felt cold and had goosebumps everywhere. "The... the auction?" were the only two word I could stutter, while I was panicking.


	5. The auction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING BEFORE YOU READ: This chapter contains violence/non-con situations, so skip it if you don't feel like reading this kind of stuff. I DO NOT PROMOTE rape, it's just for the sake of the story, I'm sorry if someone feels offended, please please forgive me, I'll make it up to you, I promise.

"Ah, buckos, I'm happy to see ye here" said Black Bart, greeting his guests inside the tent I was held captive. "This is what I was talking about, ye see. She put up a bit of a fight, even dressed up as a man and hid among my crewmen, and nobody noticed until she tried to kill me. She's something, I'll give her that. She got a nice body, too". "Well, that's not so easy to tell since she's still all dressed up" said one of the men. Roberts smiled, then tore apart my shirt with a single jerk. My breasts and my waist were exposed to some filthy animals who were planning on buying me, and I never felt so much humiliated. I couldn't do a single thing when those eyes looked at my body, nor when they started touching. I was trembling, biting my lip in order to hold back my tears. 

"Now then, lassie here's no common whore, ye see. She's a friend of Kenway, Thatch and Kidds, so she has her acquaintances, which makes her worth some blunt. Oh, and I almost forgot: she's still 'intact', my doctor visited her" he kept saying. The way he said 'intact' made me feel nauseous. I'd been preserving myself for someone I truly loved, and now my virginity was about to get taken away by some random pirate. This thought just put more weight on my heart, and made me feel even more worthless. I wasn't worth of Edward's love, nor of his trust, I was just some random girl who occasionally served him rum and couldn't be of any good for him. I had failed him, I had failed Anne, James and all my friends. I had failed myself. And now I had to pay for my failure. If Roberts had just killed me, at least I would have died for a cause I believed in, but he decided that taking everything from me would have been a finer idea. 

They were still on with the auction, deciding who would have paid for what. I couldn't hear a thing, just some muffled sound in the distance, as if my ears were covered with wax. It was pointless to fight or to protest, even when Roberts kneeled beside me, and started touching me. I was looking down, not saying a thing. He lowered the touch, going from my breasts to my belly, and then stroking my thigh. Tears started rolling down my cheeks, but I still didn't say a thing. It was like I was in some sort of trance, and I almost didn't notice him sliding down my pants. He then started touching my slit, showing my 'quality' to his guest, and then put a finger inside me. This woke me instantly from the trance, and I started to beg him to just finish me, to leave me be, to spare me this humiliation. He didn't listen to a thing I said, and started moving slowly inside, and then outside. My voce died in my throat as he was abusing me, but I still tried to say something.

I didn't want to let him win without putting at least a little fight, he couldn't have me that easily, so I started to move and tried to escape from his touch. "Don't touch me!" I shouted. He slapped me, and kept moving. "Gentlemen, I'd say we start debating the price. I may not guarantee this wench to be 'intact' if ye keep talking" he said smiling. Those men were worried about what he said, and started offering. He licked my neck and sucked on it, then bit my earlobe, and I yelped. "Quicker, or I may keep the lass for myself and call off the deal we had!" he ordered, and then bit harshly on my neck. I gritted my teeth and tried to move again, and he just bit harder, and blood started flowing from his teeth. It hurt like hell, and I couldn't do a thing. In my mind, I tried to call out for Edward, even though I knew he wouldn't have come. I didn't care, I just needed to cling to the idea of someone coming to my rescue. 

"Oh, come now men! If this is all you have to offer, I may really just keep her for myself!" Bart urged on them; then slided between my legs, sliding down his pants and rubbing his member on my womanhood. I started begging him again, then cursing him, then shouted - I coulnd't really tell if I was more angry or desperate, but I still did try everything that came up on my mind. His tip was pressing against my entrance, and every part of my body was rejecting it. I felt nauseous just at the idea of him inside of me. I shook my hips, trying to escape from his hands, that were firmly planted on my hip bones, pressing so hard that his nails left many bruises. He was about to get inside of me, and I had run out of ideas.


	6. To the rescue

I couldn't do anything. Nothing was the single word that echoed inside me while that filthy man was all over me. I thought I was done for, when I heard a familiar voice say: "Now Roberts, let's not do something this stupid". I thanked God a thousand times when, behind Black Bart's shoulder, I saw Kidd. If Anne was like an older sister to me, James was like an older brother. We cared for each other, and he was very gentle with me, given the kind nature he always hid from the others. "Aye Bartholomew, leave the lass alone" said a rougher voice, which belonged to none other than Charles Vane himself, who was pointing his gun at Robert's head. Not a word came out of the man over me, but with a quick movement he disarmed Vane, then slid behind me. 

His erection pressed hard against my butt, and with a click he slid a blade which somehow came out of his wrist on my neck. Charles had collected his pistol, and put it back in his holdster, trying not to look at my naked body covering Bart's. "Just try to reason, will ye?" he said. "This wench is someone very special to the guys back at Old Averys', and ye don't want to have any more attention, nay? Just let her go, and we won't do a thing". "Horseshit! Pay me and I'll consider the offer. The lassie here did some serious damage, destroying some important things I had. That will cost ye" Roberts replied, tightening the grip of the knife on my neck. 

"Name the price" said James, crossing his arms on his chest. "Davis!" shouted Black Bart. The quartermaster arrived, with the ship's register on his hands. He started scribbling something, and handed it to Vane and Kidd. The first one burst out laughing so loudly it almost made the earth around us quake: "Ye tellin' me this scrawny lassie was able to cause THIS much damage in just about two months? What on heavens was in those barrels anyway? Rum made out of gold?". James seemed a bit more serious, and while Charles was laughing of my 'special abilities', gaining an eyeroll from me, he was figuring out how to repay the price, which was very high.

Vane just kept laughing, and it was getting on my nerves, and, apparently, on Black Bart's as well, since his grip on my throat became harder and his blade drew actual blood from it. It hurt so much I wanted to scream, but given where he was cutting me I couldn't utter a single word, and just had to suffer in a choked silence. James looked even more concerned and his hand flew to his holster, but Vane stopped him and looked at me, then rustled his hand inside of his torn and dirty coat and took out a bag full of gold and lauched it over me. Roberts immediately took it with his free hand and opened it, then smiled and slided off of me. "Well buckos, I'm afraid we'll have to wrap things out" he said to those men who around ten minutes before were offering huge amounts of money just to have my bodies, giving a pat on the shoulder of each man, inciting them to go away with him, leaving me alone with Charles and James. James kneeled beside me, untying my arms and holding me tightly while Charles cut the ropes that tied my legs. Then he stood up while Kidd wrapped an arm around my body, helping me to get up.

My head was spinning and I felt so dizzy that I fell backwards, clashing against Vane's chest before my legs gave up. He caught me in time, and took me in his arms. "Eveline!" exclaimed worried James. My sight was blurry, and I felt like I was going to faint again. "She got drugged, leave her be. Her body is just expelling it all" Charles explained calmly. I focused on his rough yet comforting voice, his warmth and the smell of gunpowder of his coat. His hands on my back and in the crook of my legs, which allowed him to carry me bridal style, were the last things I could feel before I blacked out.


	7. Away from Principe

It was the squeaking of wood and the stench of mold that brought me back to my senses: I was laying on a bed, with a linen blanket covering my naked form. "W-where am I?" I asked with a hoarse voice, while I felt something cool and wet on my forehead. I turned around and saw James using a cloth to wash sweat away from my face, while saying: "Shhhhh, it's alright Eveline. Everything's fine now, and you're safe". I tried to reply, but he brought a finger to my lips, hushing me: "Don't speak. That blade left quite the cut on your neck, you really shouldn't speak if you don't want it to get worse". I turned myself around, showing him my back. He chuckled a little: "I know you like to be a noisy lass, but for now we'll have to live with your cute face". I turned around to face him again, with a soft blush on my cheeks. He chuckled again and caressed my hair. Even though he was one of the most violent pirates out there, he always treated me with gentleness and affection, being protective of me. "Ye're on the Ranger, by the way, where you'll live for some time. We just left Principe, but you won't go back to Nassau just yet. We have to deal with some stuff, so Vane will take it slow and mind some business around the Caribbean Sea. Now try to rest, will ye, lassie? Ye had too much adventure for some time, I tell ye". I nodded softly and closed my eyes.

I heard James walking towards the door, and going out; then I heard footsteps above me, and two familiar voices: Kidd's and Vane's. The second one started the conversation: "We had luck, ye know? If Anne had found the letter later, that addled Bart would have done something bad to her". "I... don't want to think of what that bilge rat would have done to her". "She shouldn't have messed around in the first place, Kidd! Oi, don't look at me like that! Ye know it too. Even though she had a nice plan, and even carried most of it out, the bastard couldn't be deceived so smoothly. Even if she achieved all of it, he wouldn't have let her go. He's too interested in her, ye see". "Even so, she had more courage than the rest of us, ye must give her that. She dressed up as a man, hid herself among his crewmen and destroyed important weapons. He didn't say a thing, but I know what it was. Eveline had a drop of in in the necklace she was wearing. It was a very dangerous weapon, and if she wouldn't have gotten rid of it, all of us would be done for". "Are you sinking me? She's a bloody lassie! A wench! Do you understand me? She didn't have enough physical strength, and as a matter of fact we found her well tied up with her legs spread open!". "Did ye know Roberts was at the Old Avery three months ago? Did ye know he had the most lethal weapon a man could create? Huh?". "Horseshit! Down to the depths the weapon! She would have died, and for what exactly?". "Again: did you know?". "...". "Exactly. That's what I mean when I say that rum went to yer head!". 

Only silence followed James' remark; then footsteps. "Vane! Where ye goin'! I'm not finished with ye!" he shouted. No answer. Then I heard the creak of door of the room I was in, and for some reason I felt the urge to pretend to be asleep, so I closed my eyes and relaxed my breathing. Heavy footsteps were coming near my bed, and I knew Charles was close. "Vane!" shouted James from the outside, trying to open the door. Of course the door was locked. Charles murmured some curses, answering to Kidd, and then I heard a rustle close to me, then something heavy laying beside me. He reeked of alcohol, of course he was drunk. Then I felt his rough hand caressing my cheek. That was something too gentle of him. I kept my eyes shut, afraid to undergo his wrath as well. "That bastard Edward doesn't deserve ye, y'know. He didn't even bother to come and get ye: too busy doing stuff with Thatch, to quote his own words. Ye're too good for him, and almost died for that bilge rat" he grunted, probably talking to himself. He then kissed my forehead, got up and got out, to deal with James.

That kiss was burning on my face, and his words stung. I opened my eyes, sat up and brought my knees on my chest. I looked around: that was the captain's chamber, no doubt about it; this meant I was sleeping in Charles' room. He was a tall and rough man, who usually wore a torn coat, with stains of rum and gunpowder, and even though he was good friends with Edward, they were the complete opposite. His chamber, though, was tidy; the only sign of the fearsome pirate was a table on a corner of the room, full of bottles messily laid on it, probably his shelter when he needed to drink. 

I don't know why, but suddenly I felt a spasm in my chest, and tears violently burst out of my eyes. I held tightly my legs, and I felt lonely, in that cold cabin, while crying. I knew it. I knew Edward didn't love me. I knew he didn't even think of me at all. But.. was it too much to just hope one day he'd be able to feel something? And anyway, why would Charles care? Did he just enjoy to make people miserable? His words echoed through my mind, and I covered my mouth with a hand, trying to hide my sobs. I cried for some time, until it became dark outside, and I felt too tired. I didn't know if Vane noticed I was awake, I didn't know if he said those things hoping I'd have listened, but I did, and it hurt. I dried my tears sniffling a bit, and laid again on the bed. James was right: I needed rest, I really went through too many things in almost three months.


	8. The Jackdaw

Some days passed by since that episode; I got used to Vane's horrible attitude, thanks to my experience with Roberts. He wasn't as cruel as him, but he was a complete jerk with me all the time for no apparent reason. The cut on my neck got infected pretty badly, as well as that messy bite Roberts generously left me, since those sultry days filled with brackish and the mossy woods around me weren't exactly the best thing for healing my wounds, so I still couldn't talk. Not that I felt like doing it, anyways. What Vane said while I was "asleep" pierced my heart, which had turned stone cold. I didn't care about anything else, except for the ones I truly held dear: James and Anne. I didn't have anyone else in this world, now. I usually turned my face and walked away from Charles, and this got him even angrier. So, in order to look for some kind of comfort, he always shouted against Kidd; it was some kind of sick hobby, it seems. 

"Oi, since it looks like ye lass like to stay around men, ye could give me back me bed and go to sleep with Kidd and his buckos" he told me one day. James got angry and wanted to say something, but I stopped him and shaked my face; then I glared at Vane, and went to sleep with the crewmen. Kidd looked displeased, but offered to share his bed with me, holding me tight every night and comforting me from Vane's cruelty, and his kindness was the only thing that made me happy on those dreadful days. 

A month passed since our departure, and we saw the Jackdaw on our course. Edward had come to meet us and inquire about Roberts and my whereabouts, since Anne had told him too about my adventure. "Blimey, if it isn't that bastard of a Kenway!" chuckled Vane, holding a bottle of rum. Edward replied with his devilish grin and a pat on his shoulders, while James put an arm around my shoulders and got us near the two men. They greeted each other, and then Kenway looked at me with a serious look: "You've been really brave, I'll give ye that. But never do something like this ever again, Eveline! Anne is worried sick. You ran away, disguised as a man, put yerself in danger and-" his voice raised with every scold, and I closed my eyes, trying to hide myself behind James; "you saved me" he added, pulling me from behind Kidd and hugging me tightly. I widened my eyes in disbelief, and my cheeks turned red. 

Charles' glare was piercing through my body, but I ignored him and lost myself in Edward's embrace. This pissed the drunk man even more, and he stomped to his chamber, locking himself away from the rest of us. Edward, meanwhile, let go of me, and laughed loudly when he saw my bright red face. "I'll see ye soon, lass, but please, go back to Anne. I can't stand to see her like this" he said. I nodded. "I owe ye me life, and I won't forget that. Kidd, ye're coming with me: we still have to deal with Black Bart, in Principe". Kidd hugged me, kissed my forehead and said goodbye: "We'll meet each other soon, but for now, farewell!". I smiled and waved at them while they got on the Jackdaw and set sail to Principe. 

"Oh, the GREAT Kenway sailed away without kissing his poor and delicate Eveline!" brawled a rough voice behind my back. My smile faded away, leaving place to my annoyed frown, and I turned around to see a completely wasted Charles Vane. "Whaddya lookin' at, kiddo? Still mad at poor ol' Vane, ey? Not that I care too much heheheh" he added, walking towards me. I was slowly going back, but then my shoulders met the mainmast, and Charles put his hands on both sides of my head, making it impossible for me to move away.

"Yennow, Edward sees you as a lassie, so he'll never notice yer feelings. But I can tell ye how to seduce the bastard hehehe". His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath tickle my lips. He reeked of alcohol, so I frowned with disgust, turning my face on one side and closing shut my eyes. He took my chin and turned my head again to face his; I was pale, because he started to frighten me a little. He got even closer, our lips almost touching, and he whispered: "The secret is to open up nicely yer legs like the _slut_ ye are". This was the last straw. Tears started rolling on my cheeks and I glared furiously at him. He looked at me in disbelief, as if he didn't know how to react. I slapped him, and while he backed up I ran away from him. 

I heard him laugh, and then he shouted: "Hahahahaha, go away! Go away! Act almighty, like nothing happened to you! I wonder if Roberts really didn't touch you already". I thought of Roberts back in Principe, I thought of his hands all over me, but I didn't do a thing and just went to my bed, while the drunk bastard was singing: _"I dreamed a dreeeeeeaaaaam the ooother niiiiiight... Loooooowlaaaaands, lowlanda awaaaaaaaaaay me Jooohn... My love she caaaaaame, dressed all in whiiiiiite... Looooowlaaaaaaands awaaaaaay..."_. Simply disgusting.  
I trew myself on the bed I had been sharing with James until the night before, smelling his scent on the cushion. I brought it on my face, closing my eyes and dreaming of him holding me tight and soothing me. I also dreamed about Edward, and his: "I owe ye me life, and I won't forget that". I hated Charles Vane with every fiber of my being. 

_Despised him, loathed him!_


	9. Stormy sea

When I left Charles it was dark, so I didn't notice the black clouds on the horizon; those usually meant an imminent storm. Around a hour after I fell asleep, I felt the ship shake a bit too much. I knew this was up to no good: storms weren't exactly the best thing fo a wooden ship. So here we were, in the middle of the sea during a storm. I initially refused to get out, Vane's crewmen were strong and capable, so I just kept lying on the bed, holding the cushion tight. I was waiting to go back to sleep; two minutes passed. 

Three.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Thirty.

I just couldn't sleep.

Outside, I heard men shouting, the quartermaster giving orders around, but I didn't hear Charles' voice at all. That was weird: he was the captain, after all. I tried not to think of it, but deep inside I was worried something happened to him. I bit my lower lip, got up and started dressing up: I tied my hair, put some pants and a shirt I found on, tied my knife on my ankle and put on a holster with a gun. I went on the stairs, and slightly opened the manhole that separated the crewmen's room from the outside, trying to peek. I saw men running around the hull, so I decided to just get out. I wanted to help out: after all, in a situation like this, a help was always welcomed. 

When I got outside, the situation was desperate: the crewmen were slammed left and right by the waves, some even fell out of the ship, and none of them was dealing with the sails. I ran to the mainmast, hang on a rope and cut the other side of it, making three sacks of sand fall down heavily and lifting me up in the air. With my knife in my mouth, I slowly made my way and started furling a sail. Some other men saw me and finally decided to help me out. 

Most of the work was done, and everyone was helping out, so I turned my head to look at the quartermaster; he was trying to get the helm out of Vane's hands. The man was so drunk he could barely stand, still holding a bottle of rum in one hand. It was a pitiful show to assist to, but the quartermaster was doing his best to save the situation as best as he could. Vane just refused to cooperate, claiming: "I'm the bloody Cap'n! I will guide the Ranger! Stay outta me way, ye!". The quartermaster shouted him back: "Look at yer grog blossom! Ye look like a bloody landlubber! Ye couldn't hold a rope in your condition, let alone the helm!". "Did ye drink too much sea water or ye just addled? I ain't takin' a caulk! I'm _fiiiiiiiiine_ , look at me sea legs! Ye wish ye had these!" he replied, shooing the quartermaster with a gesture of his hand. 

They kept arguing, leaving the Ranger at the mercy of the storm; "Ahoy! Huge wave to port side!" shouted the sentinel at some point. The quartermaster finally took the helm over, gybing and making everyone on the hull slip, but avoiding any collateral damage caused by the wave. Everyone grabbed a rope, holding tightly to it, as the ship was quite a lot inclined. The salty water got inside our ears, noses, mouths and even eyes, but we held for dear life on the ropes, and we saved ourselves. Once the ship was stabilized again, everyone shouted out of happiness. I was happy as well, but the more I looked around, the more I got anxious: Charles wasn't there. I ran to the quartermaster, and he seemed to be looking for him as well.

"Cap'n at sea!" shouted the sentinel. My eyes widened, and I ran to the edge of the ship, looking around the ship, trying to spot him. I finally found him, and so did many other men. "Someone go save him!" said someone. "It's too late! Let's leave him be!" said another. "There must be something we can do!". "No, we can't". "Please, someone, just go and save him!". No one seemed to be willing to risk his life for a man who was slowly being attracted by the sea. I couldn't believe such big, old men were afraid to get wet! 

True, it was almost December, but it was another reason why we had to save him! He wouldn't have lasted much longer, the sea was freezing cold. I clicked my tongue in disgust, took a rope and tied it tightly around my waist. The quartermaster looked at me, and asked: "What do ye think ye're doing? It's too late, and ye're not strong enough to save him!". I wanted to say something, but my throat was still sore. I wrapped some cloth around it, in order to avoid a direct contact with the sea, and then dived into the sea.

The water was freezing cold, and my whole body was instantly paralyzed from the cold. I snapped out of it quickly, and swam towards Vane. He had lost consciousness and was probably stuck onto something heavy, because his body wasn't floating. I almost coulnd't see him, but luckily his blue and red coat was still very visible. I reached the coat, but noticed that he had lost it and was under the surface. I quickly put the coat on, and then dived down, reaching him. I tried lifting him, but he was indeed stuck. I looked at his feet, and noticed that one was tied around a rope of a shipwreck. I took the knife and cut the rope; it took some time, but I did it. Vane's body finally started floating again, and it made it easier for me to drag him.  
I pulled the rope I was tied to, and the crewmen on the Ranger started pulling, dragging both of us. 

When I was on the ship once again, I coughed blood. The wound stung like hell, but I had to save him; even though I hated him, I couldn't just let him be. When I recovered, I saw everyone gathered around Charles' body. Their faces were gloom, and mine became pale. I went near the body, and saw the quartermaster trying to make him breath. Some others tried to wake him up by shouting at his ears, others kicking him around a bit, but no one could wake Charles Vane.


	10. "Wake up!"

"Cap'n!" shouted everyone, desperate; I was being pushed every time father from Charles. Cold and pain had the better of me, and I fell on my knees. I kept staring at his pale face, his purple lips and his eyes shut. I looked at the water that was dripping from his wet hair, forming a little puddle around his head, almost framing his face. I held tight onto his coat, which I was still wearing, looking for some kind of warmth it couldn't possibly give me.

_"Wake up!"_ I thought.

The quartermaster kept hitting his chest, trying to get water out of his lungs.

_"Wake up!"_

The quartermaster got up with sorrow painted all over his face.

_"For the love of God, get up!"_ I was shouting exasperated inside my head.

Everyone just took the hats off their heads and kept being silent. What a bunch of hypocrites! If they really loved their captain, they would have tried to save him sooner. I felt the pulse of my blood in my ears; what was that pain in my chest? It was similar to the ones Vane made me feel every time he belittled me, but not the same. Why would I be sad for such a man? Nobody liked him, not even Edward nor Kidd. He treated his crew like shit. He treated me like shit. He was a drunkard good for nothing, a despicable man and one of the cruelest pirates the Caribbean Sea had ever seen; and yet, I felt pity for him, and even sadness. He was alone. Nobody cared for him, to the point that even his crewmen and his own quartermaster would have left him for dead, to the mercy of the sea. And he was dying alone, too, because nobody was really sad for him.

"Mates, we're crying for the loss of out Cap'n in this sorrowful day..." the quartermaster started saying. That got my blood boiling: he couldn't be dead. I refused to believe so.

Adrenalin rushed trough my veins, and I got up, pushing the man away and sitting on Vane's body. I started punching his chest hard, boiling with rage. It was more of an outburst on him than an actual attempt to save him, I knew it. Someone even tried to stop me, but I kept on hitting him. Then I started smacking his cheeks, and then I grabbed his shirt and shook it violently. Tears came out violently; I was actually crying for the bastard. Nobody was waiting for him back at the Old Avery, but I still wanted him to come back. 

_"Ye stupid!"_

_"Drunkard!"_

_"Gonna wake up any time soon, ugly bastard?"_

_"Horrible, despicable creature!"_

Those were the things I wanted to scream, but couldn't. 

I finally gave up, letting my head rest on his chest. I could still smell gunpowder and rum from him, mixed with the sea's saltiness. 

Finally, I heard some violent coughing and felt the body under mine shake and come back to life. I refused to lift my eyes, and just kept my face hidden on the man's chest, tightening the grip of my fists on his shirt, to the point that I felt my knuckles turn white. I just thanked the Lord, faintly smiling. Everyone else just kept screaming with joy, and they were too busy shouting and hugging each other to notice him. 

I felt two strong arms hug me, and a rough voice said: "I'm back, lassie". I finally lifted my face, looking into his icy blue eyes, smiling and sniffling a bit. He was surprised by my expression, but didn't say a thing and just caressed my cheek with one of his hands. I trembled a bit, not used to the sensation, and he chuckled softly: "Me hands are cold, ey? Sorry 'bout that". Some raindrops fell on my back: it had started to rain again; but neither me nor Vane moved an inch. 

Wind, rain and shouts around us didn't exist. There was just me and him, in the fleble warmth two dripping wet bodies could give to each other. I kissed his forehead; maybe I didn't hate Charles Vane so much.


	11. Loving attentions

That disadventure had shaken up quite a bit everyone on the Ranger; everyone was scared to be accused of mutiny, but since I was the only one who could have said something, they were safe. After all, I still couldn't talk. Charles was sick in bed, all that cold water hadn't been too good on him. I was luckier, not catching any fever, but the cut on my throat got worse, so I had to bandage it and it was hard to breathe and to swallow food or water. Nevertheless, I insisted on being the one in charge of Vane while he was sick, since the quartermaster had to mind the Ranger and give commands to everyone in the captain's place. I spent nights and days next to his bed, helping him out when he had to eat, to drink or just needed something. 

"How's it going?" asked one day the quartermaster, opening the door. I simply shook my head; Vane still had a very high fever, and most of the time was out unconscious. The man walked beside me, and started getting Charles undressed: "We have to wash him, or he'll have bed wounds, plus he's sweating a lot". I nodded, getting up from the chair I was sitting and bringing a basin filled with water together with some clean cloths. 

"Sir, we have a problem outside!" said a member of the crew, who had just come inside. "Is it really important? We're in the middle of something, here!". "Aye... it's important..." said the man, almost feeling guilty. The quartermaster looked at him, then excused himself with a loud sigh and went out with the man. I was alone, with a feverish and naked Charles Vane knocked unconscious. I gulped (immediately regretting it) and looked at him: he was quite the sight, I had to give the man that. He had a strong body, full of hair and muscles; scars upon him showed he had lived quite a life, but didn't make him any less attractive, on the contrary. He had this wild bear look, and it really suited him. My cheeks flushed bright red as my eyes were going down, noticing that _that_ part was exposed. I covered it for modesty, and then decided to wash him in the quartermaster's place. I took a cloth, put it in water and then squeezed it. 

First, I washed his feet, then the legs, and I stopped just around his thighs; I didn't want to touch _certain parts_ , so I decided to leave them be for now. 

Then I put the cloth in the water again, squeezed it, and then went to his belly. Even though he had a little bum, caused by the excessive amount of alcohol the man had drunk, it kinda softened his shape, and somehow suited him. He had defined muscles on his lower hips, and I was almost hypnotized by them. I trailed them softly with my hand, and the man moved a bit, taking me by surprise; I gasped quietly, and went back to my task. I finished washing his abdomen, then his chest, his arms and his back. 

Finally, it was time for me to wash his face. I covered his body with a blanket, then added two more to keep him warm, and finally went back to the washing part. I put a new cloth in water, squeezed it and brought it to his face. I gently pulled his hair out of his sweaty forehead, and started cleaning it. Then I cleaned his cheeks, his chin, nose and lips. 

For the first time I could focus on those thin lips, caressing them with my hand, noticing how soft they were. I thought of when we were so close to a kiss the same day I saved his life, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would have felt like. Then I caressed his beard, noticing how long and wild it had grown, and noted to myself to shave him. 

He seemed so at peace while he was sleeping, he almost looked like a kid. 

I couldn't help myself; I lowered my face, closed my eyes and kissed his forehead, then his temple. His cheek. The bridge of his nose. His other cheek. His left eye. His right eye. His chin. I slightly opened my eyes again, looking yet again at his parted lips, biting mine. My hands were cold and shaking, and my heart was beating so fast it almost felt like it was about to explode; I felt powerless against the urge I felt to kiss the man. So I did it. I closed my eyes again, and planted my lips on his.

It was so soft and warm it didn't seem real. I felt my face burn and my heart pound even louder than before (if that was even possible), and I felt a warm sensation under my belly.

I parted from the kiss, but felt the urge to kiss the man again, and so I did. 

I kissed him several times, my head started spinning. I wanted to stop, but my mind just kept telling me: _"One more". "Just one more". "Please, give him the last one"_. And so went on until I felt the door open. I immediately got up, with the face burning red from the embarassment. 

"I'm here" said the quartermaster. I turned around to face him. He looked at me confused: "Ye alright, lassie? Did ye catch the fever as well?". I merely shook my head, then ran out of the room, which had become too hot for me to stand. Once out, I laid my back on the door, covering my mouth with one hand and checking my heartbeat with the other.

_Had I really fallen for that man?_


	12. "I felt you"

We were close to Nassau, but still needed to play for time before docking at the port, so we took the course easy and slowly. Charles was still spending his days in bed, since his fever hadn't completely gone; however, he was conscious and lively, for a sick person, and that made my nurse job easier. We would always spend the days together, and even though I was still mute, we were able to somehow have a conversation; he was a pleasant person to listen to, when he was in the right mood. 

My newly awoken awareness of him and my feelings made me more patient towards his bad attitude; I thought that I had lost all the feelings my heart could feel during those hard days after my disadventure, but that scruffy and hot-tempered man had proved me wrong. He somehow changed too after I saved him, and I must say I was actually impressed by the fact that, even though it wasn't easy for him, he was somehow trying to be gentle and less rude; of course, he rarely succeeded in doing so, but still, I appreciated the effort.

I took a basin filled with water and some clean cloths near him; that signal meant that I needed to clean him. He looked at me with slightly red cheeks; I smiled at him, trying to make the whole situation less awkward.

He sat up on the bed, and took the shirt off. I sat next to him with a wet cloth, and started to gently scrub his back. He was quietly letting me do my task, resting his arms on his spread open knees that were under the bed covers, just staring at something undefined in front of him; he was sailing with his mind, he was far far away from that bed. I tried not to disturb him, since, in those days, I had learnt that he hated to be interrupted.

"Ye know, lass... While I was about to go to Davy Jones' Locker, I saw me life flash before me eyes - nay, just some blurry episodes, to be honest. My childhood... My mother... My friends... My father; I started sailing thanks to the bastard. Still remember when he once told me, rotten drunk: 'It's a privateering contract, Charlie! Yer ol'dad will be a Cap'n!'. Addled died drowning in his own mug of clap of thunder before he even got to buy his own bloody tub, heh! And then I was sailing again, going to me mates; dead ones, mind ye! Sea calm and grey, washing everything away, sky pale blue..."

For a moment, I stopped scrubbing his back, sorry for what I was hearing; then I moved in front of him, washing his chest. He looked at me, while I was trying to avoid any eye-contact. This went on for some minutes, until he took my wrists in his hands, gently squeezing, and resting his forehead on mine. I shut close my eyes, trying not to blush too hard; however, the burning sense I felt on my ears let me know that I failed in doing so. 

"Then I heard a voice - nay, I _felt_ you. Blimey, I just knew it was you who was saving me. Dunno how, but something made me think of you while I was being dragged out of water; I know, I was out unconscious, but I had this strong _feeling_ about the situation. Out of all me 'fellow' crewmen, the single injuried woman I had aboard was brave enough to save this ol'bastard. I could give no quarters, I could have them keel haul, I could have them kiss the gunner's daughter. Mutiny is a serious crime amongst pirates, ye see". 

With our foreheads and our noses still touching, he brought my hands to his lips, and gently kissed each of my fingers. His touches were oh so gentle, it was almost unreal. He was slowly and gently torturing me, and I couldn't escape his grip; not that he was forcing me, I just didn't want to. 

"I'll spare these bastards if ye'll stay here with me now". I wanted to protest, but also wanted to stay, and so I did. My heart was pounding so loudly that it covered any other sound in my ears.

I slightly opened my eyes, skin on my face still burning hot to the point I felt like I was the one who had a fever. His eyes were focusing on my hands, and he just kept kissing them. I whimpered and slightly winced, and his icy blue eyes rose to meet mine. I slightly parted my trembling lips, as if I felt the urge to say something, but I knew no sound would have come out. He nevertheless seemed to understand my urge, and softly kissed me. I was completely at his mercy, begging for more in my head and still not being entirely sure of what this 'more' truly meant. 

He stopped the kiss almost immediately, but kept his face close to mine; I could feel his warm breath on me, but this time it didn't reek of alcohol, nor made me feel disgusted. He let go of one of my hand, and laid his on my cheek; then he kissed my lips, the point of my nose, my forehead and then my head. "Ye smell so good, Eveline" he said softly, and let go a deep rumble from his chest, showing appreciation for what he was savouring, and then put his forehead once again on mine.

This time I leaned on and kissed him deeply. He almost immediately hugged me tightly with desire. Hands kept wondering, mine on his body and his on my body. Not too much time passed until we became a whimpering mess, none of us wanted to stop, so we just kept kissing and touching. He then broke the kiss and licked my neck, then my earlobe. His beard was tickling on my neck, but it just made everything more pleasant.

He gently bit me and sucked on my skin, and I just kept whimpering under his touch; I wanted, no, I needed him. His hands caressed my back through the white nightgown I was wearing, and slowly began to go down, groping my butt. 

It was then that I began to feel... uneasy, just as if I wasn't there anymore, as if it wasn't _Charles_ touching me. 

We weren't on the Ranger anymore, Vane wasn't the one kissing me.

It was _Roberts_ , and I was still locked up in Principe; that filthy man was trying yet again to get to me, to scar me. I could feel his pitch black eyes piercing through my body, and his rough and unpleasant chuckle, and even the horrible smell of blood. I could still feel my head pounding after he hit me that night, in his chamber. I could still feel his fingers touching me where I didn't want him to.

My body began trembling and refused any further contact. I yelled, and shove the man away, separating myself from Charles, crying and bringing my hand on my mouth to stop the retch that was menacing to come out with a strong spasm of my chest. My throat was sore, and I just kept trembling and crying.

I heard a loud bang, and the quartermaster's worried sick voice: "I heard a scream, what happened?!?". Vane just rose a hand, gesturing him to leave, and after the quartermaster left he carefully and slowly hugged me again. I jumped when he touched me, but this time I didn't separate from his embrace. I wanted him, I loved him, so why did this happen to me? _Why_ did I have to feel like this?

 _"Will it be like this forever?"_ was the only thing my mind could think of.

Time went by, and he never let go of me, even though I had violently shoved him away thinking of another man. He laid on his bed still holding me, and put the bed sheets over my body. That night I fell asleep in his arms, with my eyes still wet and my mind still scarred in a way I didn't know was possible.


	13. Drunk Charles Vane (again)

Charles was completely fine now. His fever had gone down, and our relationship just kept getting better and better; he spent any moment he could leave his crewmen with me. We just hid in the hold, kissing and touching each other behind rum barrels or under the spare sails, like two crazy hormonal teenagers. 

Sex was still off-limits for me, not that I wanted to. Every time he slowly and gently touched me, helping my body to find comfort and get over the horrible experience, but still stopped whenever I asked him to. 

He was incredibly good with me, completely the opposite of his behaviour towards his crewmen. Of course it was for a respect reason, he still had the terrible reputation of being one of the cruelest pirates around, so it was an obvious requirement, for him, to be brusque and harsh on his men. Any tender spot could leave a chance for anyone to take advantage of the situation, so we kept our relationship hidden, with the blessing of the poor quartermaster, who was after all a good person and cherished our relationship. He kept saying that I did more good to Charles than anyone ever did, and helped us hide everything.

One day everything just fell apart, like a castle made out of playing cards. 

I was sitting on Vane's bed while he kept kissing and touching me; even though it was nighttime, so we didn't really have to be careful, but still we tried to keep it as quiet as possible. His hands were on my back, gently stroking my naked skin, while his mouth was covering my face, my neck and my shoulders of hot and wet open mouth kisses; I was melting under his touch, while trying to hang on to him, holding tightly his shirt in my fists.

We were so caught in the moment that we didn't hear the door opening, nor the ship's boy that came inside. I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of the guy behind Charles' back; I gasped and hid my naked form with the bed sheets. Vane was confused at first, but then he turned himself around and saw what I had seen; his expression became dark, and his icy cold gaze made the man tremble.  
"What are you doing here?" he growled.

"I was... I was sent here to ask ye to... we were wondering if we could dock at the next island... to get some food supplies..." the ship's boy stuttered.  
Charles clicked his tongue with disapproval; "That's all?"

"A-aye, Cap'n..."

"Get out of me face before I make you keel haul".

The boy got out of the chambers running. I stood up and hugged him from behind, burying my face on his back. He took my wrists in his hands and stepped away, then turned around and looked at me with the same dead stare he had used with the ship's boy. "Get dressed" he said coldly. I couldn't believe what I just heard, so I just walked towards him and gently caressed his cheek; he turned his face around, escaping from my touch. I knew what that meant, so I just put my white night gown on and walked away silently. I gripped the door handle, but remained still, waiting for him to say something. 

"Get out!" he shouted at me after two minutes of absolute silence between us.  
My chest ached because of his behaviour, I didn't understand why he was acting like this; but the next day I understood what made Charles uneasy.  
We docked at the nearest dock for supplies, and I took advantage of the situation to get down and just walk a bit, smell some fresh air and, after so many days out sailing, just say on the land a bit; I finally understood what my father and my brothers used to say about land sickness.

Many crewmen had the same idea, so sometimes I met someone while walking around the island. That made me understand everything: every single time I met someone from the Ranger, I saw or heard someone whisper and look at me with disdain, shaking heads. There was no need to be smart to know that the ship's boy had told about me and Vane, and of course people started talking. Someone reserved me crooked and creepy smiles, just like Roberts', others spit on the ground with contempt; but everyone was talking about my naked body getting kissed and touched by Charles Vane.

It wouldn't have been a big deal if it wasn't for the fact that he had been to gentle for a man of his reputation, and of course that it was _ME_ didn't help the situation; everyone knew that he used to treat me like shit, not to talk about the fact that he had basically bought me back in Principe, even though the price he had paid was still a mystery to everyone but Vane, Kidd and Roberts. But the worse part was that they mostly talked about Charles' attentions towards me. I thought that pirates didn't care about petty gossip, but it seems that someone's sailing reputation could crumble as easily as the one of a landlubber. 

In the evening everyone got on the ship once again, and we set sail to Nassau; we could finally get back home, and forget all about Black Bart. Vane was drunkenly gripping the helm, while singing a song out of tune. Charles hadn't been drinking since the accident that nearly cost his life, so I was a bit shocked to see him like that. I quietly tried to sneak to my bed, but of course Vane had to assert his dominance on the crew once again, and his plan for doing so implied me. 

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up! Hi there, lassie!" laughed loudly Charles.  
I froze on his spot and looked at him with disgust. What happened? Why was he acting like this? He didn't need to do it... did he?

"Charles..." said meekly the quartermaster, laying a hand on Vane's shoulder, trying to calm him down. 

He just shrugged the hand off, and tossed the empty bottle he was holding again; then he came towards me, until we were just a few inches far from each other. He reeked so much of alcohol that I almost felt sick, but didn't lose my composure. He put a hand behind my back, bringing me closer to him, but I wasn't having none of that, so I put my hands on his chest, in order to keep some distance from him.

"What, don't want to give yer poor Charlie a goodnight's kiss?" he chuckled.

I pushed him away, and he almost lost his balance; I was worried for him, so I helped him to find balance, but I soon realized that that was a mistake. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him even harder than before, so he of course fell. He just kept laughing, lying down on the boat's wood and not willing to get up any time soon.

I walked away and just went straight for my bed, because I didn't want to see the man I had learnt to love during these days fall this low.


	14. Leaving Nassau once again

We were one day of sailing distant from Nassau, finally. 

Charles' behaviour kept getting worse and worse once again, until I just couldn't stand his presence anymore. I was a fool. I shouldn't have believed him, he could never improve. It didn't really matter if he did this because he had been messing around with me or because of his men, it was a painful thing to see. Some of his crewmen even tried to touch me, but this time I knew better, so I never kept my gun and my knife away from me. Charles didn't seem to care, and even encourage them, saying that if the price was right, I would have surely slept with anyone. 

The only ally left to me was the quartermaster, who strongly disapproved of his captain's behaviour; not that his opinion really mattered. 

I spent most of the time on my bed, I didn't really want to see anyone, except for the quartermaster, who usually brought me some food. 

The last day of sailing was no different, I spent it in my bed, waiting for the night to come. It did, and so did the quartermaster with some food. He laid everything on the bed, and set beside me, to keep me company.

"Tomorrow we'll get to Nassau; bet ye can't wait to see Anne" he said.

I nodded, smiling at him.

He smiled back and said: "I shouldn't tell you that, but I feel like I need to. Lassie, ye should get back home as soon and quickly as ye can, and don't let any of these bilge rats see ye, ye know what pirates are capable of. I can help ye, if ye want me too".

I looked at him, and nodded without esitation.

"Wise choice, lassie. Tomorrow morning I'll come escort you as soon as we dock; I'll hide ye, and ye'll be on land in no time. The moment ye're on the ground, hide yerself and then run, run away as fast as ye can and don't let anyone catch ye".

We both agreed, and I just laid down and slept.

The next morning the man came to my room, and we got ready. He lent me a dirty coat, helped me putting some bandages on the cut on my throat and hid me inside a barrell. It wasn't the most glamorous escape, but it was the most effective; everyone was busy landing down everything, so nobody would have noticed my absence. I was brought on the land together with every other supply, and as soon as I was put down, I snuck out of the barrell and hid around some bushes nearby. Then I ran away as fast as I could; I ran towards my house, but when I got nearby I saw someone familiar and hid.

Some crewmen of Roberts' were in front of my house, apparently looking for me. I had no home to run to now, apparently, so I went to Anne's place, hoping to find her there.

I was lucky.

She opened the door and immediately hugged me tightly, crying and sobbing. "Oh, Eveline, I missed ye so, so much!". I smiled at her, and tried to say something. Even though the wound was still sore, I could whisper something with a croaky voice: "I missed ye too, Anne!". "What's with yer voice?" she asked confused; I calmly explained her everything from the beginning. She prepared me a herbal infuse that helped a bit, then spread a smelly ointment on the wound, and then covered that up again.

"Ye can sleep here if ye want too, but I suggest ye don't show up at the Old Avery, not until the Ranger sets sail once again. Believe me, Charles won't be happy when he'll find out ye ran away". I nodded, and just lookd down at the cup with the infuse I was holding with both my hands. She hugged me, trying to comfort me. "Ye know, Charles can be... difficult. Yer better off without him, he's even worse than Edward. Now have some rest, I have to go to work". I nodded and laid down on the bed Anne had prepared me, and closed my eyes.

Some time passed, and I woke up. I was too uneasy to fall asleep once again, I needed to see what happened to my house. I took one of Anne's dressed, put on the coat the quartermaster gave me, and headed to my house. This time there was no one around, and everything was burned down to the ground. The house where I grew up was there, black and reduced to ashes, all thanks to that horrible Black Bart. 

I rustled around, trying to find something to save; I was lucky, and found my dad's knife, my brother's guns and holsters (which were the only things they gave me), and some money I hid under the wooden planks of my house's floor, together with a pendant that belonged to my mother. I took everything, put it in the coat's pockets and headed back to Anne's place.

I put on the clean night gown she had lent me, put the coat under the bed and just laid down once again. I was angry and sad at the same time for everything that happened, but still managed to get some rest.

I woke up the next day, when it was still a bit dark outside. 

Anne was fast asleep. I got up, put the coat I had put under the bed and headed out. There was nothing left for me there, I had to go away from Nassau; I had to run away from both Roberts and Charles. 

I found an man on the docks, he was looking at some men who were loading a ship. I walked towards him, took the money I had gathered the night before in one hand and took the courage to talk to him. "Where will you bring me for this much?" I asked him; my voice had increased a bit, so he could hear me.

The man was very tall and well built, with broad shoulders and a long, dirty black coat. His hair was grey, his eyes deep blue and his beard was cut short; his gloved hands rested on a cane. He was too elegant and composed to be a pirate, and that somehow reassured me. 

He looked at me, evidently confused by my attire: after all, I was still in a white night gown and a long dusty coat. I handed him the little sack filled with money, that he took and put back in my pocket; "I think you'll need it more than me dear, plus it would be rude of me to take money from a lady just to escort her. The Iroquois welcomes you, we're headed to Kingstown". I smiled and thanked him. "Wait for me here, dear: we need to finish some business, and in a hour we'll leave Nassau". 

I sat on a barrell and waited for the man to come back.

About fourty minutes had passed when a man approached me. He looked at me from head to toe, and came close to me. "Hi there, lassie" he said, showing me his dirty wooden teeth. "Where ya headed to? I can bring ye wherever ye want" he offered me. I looked at him, trying my best not to look disgusted, smiling: "Thank you, but I already have someone who will escort me". The man smiled and leaned in closer, invading my personal space. 

"Aw lassie, I can help you, ye just have to ask!"

"No, thank you"

He laid his hand on my thigh, and slowly stroked my skin. I took his hand and removed it, but he laid it again as soon as I let go of his hand. 

It utterly pissed me, so I took the knife and put it against his throat.

"Oooh, little pussycat here has quite the claws here!"

I heard the click of a gun, and then someone said: "You heard the miss, leave her be"; it was the captain of the Iroquois, and I sighed in relief.

The man just went away clicking his tongue, finally leaving the both of us alone.

"Sorry about that" the captain said, and I just shook my head.

We finally set sail and left Nassau's docks, much to my relief, and I could finally feel safer. I saw the Ranger while we were leaving, and even though I wasn't sure, I could have sworn I saw Charles aboard, and I felt like our gazes met. It brought me a heavy feeling on my chest, so I just walked away from the ship's side. 

I walked towards the captain, who was holding the helm, and he just looked at me and smiled; I smiled too, and just kept him company during the travel.


	15. Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me again! The story is about to end, but in these last chapters I'll be talking a lot about suicide (don't worry tho, I promised you a happy ending and I guarantee there will be). I wanted to write this note because I DO NOT PROMOTE ANY KIND OF VIOLENCE, AGAINST OTHERS AND AGAINST OURSELVES. Suicide is a really serious matter, and as such should be treated; if you feel any suicidal tendencies, please speak to someone who can help you. Thank you for sticking with my story and for leaving me kudos, love y'all!

Three months had passed since I left Nassau once again, but here in Kingston things hadn't exactly worked out. The Iroquois captain had noticed my sea legs and the fact that I knew a thing or two about sailing, and offered me a job; but I wasn't the naive lass I was almost a year ago, and I declined the offer.  
The sea life wasn't made for women, not the ones like me at least. I was too weak, too emotional. 

All of my money was soon spent in about a month for food and shelter, and after that I simply began living on the streets, eating scrapes left on the ground of pubs; the white nightgown was now dirty and smelly, and the coat even more torn than when it was given to me, but I had nothing else to wear.  
It was humiliating; even though I've never lived a rich and comfortable life, I had a decent one before. This hit hard my pride.

Yeah, my pride.

I couldn't do a thing, just swallow all of it inside me. Pride wasn't giving me food, shelter nor warm clothes to wear. I cursed every single day that same damned pride that put me through all of this in the first place. Anne was right all along, all I needed was a bit more of self-love and common sense. Love makes a fool of us, huh?

I was sick now, coughing blood and feeling dizzy all the time, but I couldn't do much about it really, so I just tried to keep myself warm at night with the coat and washed myself as often as I could in the sea. The cut on my throat was of course the cause of it, I had poorly treated it and now it was taking its revenge. Not that I didn't expect this. Now that I could talk, there was not a single person to speak, to ask for help. I kept being silent, but this time by choice.

I kept thinking about all I went through, I thought about my father and my brothers, and I thought about Edward, and Charles. What did I do wrong? Why did I keep involving myself in a mess a person like me shouldn't mess with?

One thing, of course, was being friends with James and Anne; they kept their pirate businesses to themselves, and never required me to change. They wanted me for who I was, the plain and simple girl who worked as a waitress at the Old Avery, with no family and no money, but still happy. I was loved, I had food, everything someone could ask for.

It wasn't much, I didn't have pretty gowns or fancy feasts, but I didn't even need such things. My decent life was good, my decent life was all I had left, but still I decided that it wasn't enough for me. 

And for what? _For who?_

Edward didn't love me, and even though "I'll never forget ye saved me, Eveline", he simply couldn't see past the girl serving him rum at the pub while he busied himself with some _bailarinas_.

Charles was different. He actually saw me as a woman, he desired me, and yet, when he had me, he let go of me. I could forgive the cold shoulder, understanding that his reputation wasn't something he could easily toss away, but going back to treat me like shit simply was unforgivable. I had saved him as much as he had saved me, and I didn't owe him anything. No matter how much he paid for me back in Principe, I still wasn't his doll to play with. I wasn't his plaything, a bird he could just lock up in a cage and make sing for his own pleasure. It didn't matter that his crewmen thought of me as a bailarina, I wasn't one and I knew that; but, apparently, he had begun to think so too, despite what we had shared. At the time I couldn't express my feelings towards him, but what we shared was real. That wasn't something that mere human words could explain, there was no language between us.

When we first met I'd never thought I'd ever lie in his arms, love him or kiss him. And there I was, proving myself wrong. I had loved him. I had loved him so deeply that I felt like I couldn't breathe without him - no, he was my own breath. Just a couple of months were enough to spark something that just tore apart everything I thought I knew about love, making those years I had spent loving Edward look dull and meaningless.

_Two months._

Two months had been enough, for me.

And yet, I still loved him. I had loved him doesn't cut it for what I still felt, because I still wanted to hold him close to my heart, he was still my medicine. I didn't want to know another touch or another kiss, if it wasn't from him. I called him in my sleep, I called him when I was awake, I wanted him near me once again. It made my heart ache to open my eyes and realize that he wasn't there, and that my coveting wouldn't have ever brought him back to me.

It didn't matter that our story had barely begun, he chose to turn the page, and I needed to make some choices, too. I simply couldn't, because I was too weak, and I despised myself for that. It was so, so _unfair_ , but there was nothing I could do.

 _Nothing_.

One day I felt like I had _enough_ ; I had enough of all this, I was sick and tired of feeling like this, and still be unable to do a single damn thing. I was tired of being powerless. 

_When my mother died, I couldn't do a thing._

_When my father and my brothers died, I couldn't do a thing._

_When I loved Edward, he didn't love me and I couldn't do a thing._

_When Roberts almost raped me, I couldn't do a thing._

_When Charles treated me poorly, I couldn't do a thing._

_When he nearly drowned, I couldn't do a thing._

_When Roberts burnt my house to the ground, I couldn't do a thing._

_When Charles stopped loving me, I couldn't do a thing._

I was always unable to do something to save someone I loved, or to actually still have around me someone who _actually_ loved me.

I had spent the whole night coughing violently, there were many blood stains on my vest. I felt so, so dizzy, and very weak. My head was spinning, and even though my hands and feets were freezing cold, my forehead was beaded with sweat. I just stared at the blood stains all over me, and told myself that it was enough.

I took the knife I still had with me and pointed it at my heart, firm on the conclusion that the only thing I had to do, now, was to go back home to my family, my real family. I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply and then let everything out; my hands were freezing, so they trembled a lot, but I nonetheless tried to kill myself.  
Just when my hands were mid-air, something stopped them. I opened my eyes and looked up; my jaw dropped in disbelief: Charles Vane was there, in front of me, saving me once again.

I immediately dropped the knife and let my arms fall down as well, still looking at him. He didn't do a thing as well, just stood up in front of me and looking at me.

"Charles..." was the only thing I was able to say. 

He lowered himself, and I felt his gave up and down me. Of course he couldn't recognize me: I was dirty, sick, and very skinny. He opened his mouth, as if he was trying to say something, but not a sound came out of his lips. He wanted to say something about this situation, about how skinny or dirty I was, no doubt. Who knows, maybe he was sorry (not that I was counting on it, Charles Vane was too proud to ever be sorry). He was the quiet one between us, this time. He just removed his coat, put it over my shoulders, then put his arms behind my back and my knees and carried me away.

Away from all of this, away from Kingston, my demise. 

I held tight on his coat, trying to keep my freezing body warm, and just let him carry me, while I drifted away. 

For now, it didn't matter if he despised me or felt pity, he was holding me close to him and rescuing me from my own misery.


	16. Great Inagua

I woke up in a big and soft bed, in front of a lit fireplace that finally makes me feel really warm after a very long time; the room was completely painted in white, except for the bed's structure, which was made out of dark wood. 

"Look who finally woke up!" said a familiar and cheerful voice next to me. 

I turned my head, facing Edward Kenway, that was sitting next to the bed.

"Where am I?" I asked with a croaky voice.

"Great Inagua, my place. Ye're safe, now" he answered.

I looked down at my arms; they were covered with a clean nightgown and the bruises I got myself treated and bandaged. I couldn't believe that those pale and skeletal limbs were mine, and yet they were.

"Did ye undress me?" I asked dryly, staring at my fingers.

"What? Oh, nay , of course not!" he replied a bit embarassed; "Mary undressed ye!".

"Who?"

Then I heard footsteps, and a woman came in. I looked at her, trying to remember her face. She was so familiar, even though I was sure I had never met her. She looked a lot like...

"James?" I asked.

She was taken aback by the calm I took the news; "Aye, that's me" she simply replied.

I had passed three months disguising myself as a man, plus I wasn't exactly in the mood to be surprised about anything. I breathed in and out, closed my eyes for a minute and tried to get myself together.

"Where's Vane?" I asked after some seconds, looking at Edward.

He looked at me confused, than looked at James - Mary, who was just as confused.

"He left right after he dropped ye at Nassau, said had some business to attend to. Bloody drunkard hasn't been heard of ever since" he told me.  
Something wasn't right, and there was only one way to find out.

"Who saved me?"

Mary answered this time: "Kenway. He was... Dealing with some businesses back in Kingston, people kept telling about the ghost of a woman walking through the streets at night, wearing nothing but a white nightgown dirtied with blood. You can't even begin to imagine his surprise when it turned out that the 'ghost' was ye, slowly dying like some stray dog on the streets. He did say ye called him 'Charles', but I suppose it was because of the fever. Ye've been out cold feverish for a week since ye both made it back here, ye know. That cut on the throat seems to be the problem, not only ye didn't take care of it, but even managed to make it worse. It is a miracle ye can even talk".

Edward saved me...

It was Edward all along...

Not Charles...

"Ye should've let me be" I whispered.

"What?" Edward asked, acting like he didn't hear me; but I had enough of all this.

"I said ye should've let me die there" I replied louder.

He crossed his arms on his chest, sighing. "Ye could at leat show a little bit of gratitude, lassie. I couldn't let ye die there, with a rusty knife pointed on yer heart; Anne's worried sick again, ye know".

I closed my hands tightly, almost drawing blood on my palms.

"It's always about Anne, isn't it?" I said. "Anne here, Anne there. Anne's worried for ye, shouldn't scare Anne like that. Did ye ever think of me as a woman, Edward? Did ye ever think of me because ye were worried for me, and not for Anne's pretty face? Have ye ever _even_ considered me as a woman who could have loved you, and put herself in danger just for the sake of yer life? And no, I didn't do it because I wanted yer gratitude, but because I genuinely cared about ye and just wanted to be any good for ye just for once. But no, oh no, of course it always has to be about Anne!" I almost shouted at him.

He was there, staring at me in disbelief. That was the first and the last time I ever saw Edward Kenway speechless.

"Ye should have let me die! Let me go back to me family!" I cried out.

Then a heavy silence fell among us.

My knuckles were white, and the palms purple with the blood.

After a long time, Mary finally spoke: "C'mon Kenway, I think we should leave her be for now". 

Then they bot walked out of the room, leaving me alone.

I began to cry, for myself and for everything I felt in that moment. 

I couldn't live like I wanted to, and now I couldn't even die like I wanted to. I felt like everyone was trying to tell me how to live and to die, even though I was an adult woman capable of taking my own decisions, included how I should die. I didn't want to live like this anymore, and most certainly I didn't want to feel like this anymore. I felt like this life wasn't mine, and no matter what would've happened, I couldn't possibly be happy. This life was burdening me as if someone had put something heavy on my chest and just left me there, slowly succumbing to that dreadful weight. That wasn't my life, and I had no intention to keep lying and live as the others wanted me to; I was sick of sticking by the rules, because that simply wasn't me. I didn't want to live and feel sorrow; and sorrow alone was the only think I felt like I could feel from that moment on.

 _Because Charles wasn't there with me_...

And yet, there I was, sick and incapable of moving myself, confined in a cozy and yet stranger bed.


	17. Breaking point

I was completely drained out of everything I could think of at that moment. I spent my days confined to Edward's bed, and constantly surrounded by "friends" or doctors called by James - or should I say _Mary_ \- trying to explain my sudden loss of weight. Of course I wasn't eating much, but that didn't explain why I had lost so many pounds (as if I wasn't really skinny before all of this). 

They all came to one single and painful conclusion: consumption. 

I should have been more shocked, should have felt horrible; I didn't feel a thing. I wanted, I needed to finally die, to put an end to this. Everything around me was fake: Edward's smiles were fake, James' identity was fake, Charles' love and everyone's attentions, too. Nobody really cared for me, I was sure of that. 

Why was everyone putting on a mask around me?

I knew their true intentions and thoughts: my well-being didn't really concern any of their plans. Of course I knew they needed to keep their facade, so leaving me be wasn't the smartest option for anyone, but that made the truth an even harder pillol to swallow for me.

My single hope, for now, was to peacefully leave that place. I wanted to get out, get anywhere I could go to be far from the condition I was in. Of course, I needed to help consumption kill me quickly.

Even though nobody really wanted me to look at myself on a mirror, I was certain that my face looked almost like a ghost, and my now long and oily hair of course didn't help the situation, nor the fact that anything Anne made me wear looked loose, and didn't make me warm at all. I was constantly cold, even though they kept the room very warm thanks to the fireplace in front of the bed and some hot-water bottle. Sometimes Anne got me undressed and put me in hot water, saying that a clean body was something that could help me improve, even though I didn't feel better at all, just wetter and less smellier than the day before.  
Eating became a much more troublesome part of my "routine": I couldn't digest many things, and I refused to eat even that little I could stand. I admit that I didn't make things easy for Anne, nor for Mary, that took upon herself the difficult task to put something in my stomach.

Every single day Mary would come to my room to give me breakfast, make me drink something in the morning, bring me lunch, try to make me eat some snacks in the afternoon, give me dinner and then make me drink something warm before going to sleep. 

Every single day I'd throw breakfast on the floor, spill the morning drink on my bed sheets, barely eat a crust of bread for lunch, refuse any snack, have a light dinner because I was forced to and have a single sip of anything Mary brought me after just because I needed something hot. I know I had no excuses to be that burden to everyone, but I just couldn't deal with their attitude towards me. Pity was the last thing I wanted anyone to feel for me, let alone those fake: "Yer gonna be good!" accompanied by even more fake smiles. 

I did scratch and bit hands, didn't even care about my untidy appearence; what I looked like on the outside was the least of my problems, given what I had become on the inside. They allowed me to stay out in the sun on a little terrace near the bedroom for one or two hours every day, of course under someone's surveillance; Thatch paid us a visit sometimes, so he occasionally was the supervisor in charge. He was a father figure to everyone around him, so it was natural for people to look up to him, and listen to his stories; that used the case for me as well, before all of this.

Even though we were close to summer, the sun didn't really warm my body. That was, of course, part of the consumption stuff, but I still wanted to go out every day: just sitting outside, admiring the beautiful nature and the sky above me helped me deal with my intolerance towards everything.  
Thatch would usually sit close to me and pulled out his best adventures; I didn't pay him much attention, but he never noticed. He'd spend those two hours with a bottle of rum in his hands, said the blunt helped him remember everything clearly. That, of course, was just an excuse to get wasted; being close to me, in that period, was enough to make anyone want to forget as much as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the long hiatus, but I was very busy studying. Plus, y'know, Christmas and everything else. Hope everyone had a relaxing pause from school! I'm officially going back to post regularly. Thanks to everyone who kept dealing with my story until this point, love y'all!


	18. Charles Vane returns

It was now almost summer; days got longer and warmer. Mary and Edward left about a week ago, said they had some business to attend to. Or at least, Edward had. Mary just couldn't keep up with my bad conditions, and felt the need to leave.   
The day before they left, she tried to make me eat something. I bit her hand, then she took my jaw, forcing me to open my mouth and take whatever broth she had prepared with a spoon. Of course I tried to fight back, but was just too tired, so I had to swallow both that terrible feast and my pride with it. 

Nowadays, I spent almost the whole days sleeping, except for when I was carried out on the terrace, so it became harder and harder to fight back. Mary wasn't being delicate with me (not that I deserved it, anyways), and that spoon left some bruises all around my mouth. 

I tried to scratch her hand with my nails, and that hurt her. That's when she gave me that look; those eyes burning with rage caused by my stubbornness. She did something I would have never imagined: she slapped me. That hurt, and I was shocked. I felt my stomach burn, and then I threw up my lunch. It was painful, and since I didn't have much in my stomach, I puked blood as well. Mary felt sorry for that, and massaged my back until I finished. Then took me to take a bath and get changed, while Anne changed the bed sheets I had dirtied.

She couldn't take it anymore, and just left with Kenway. Anne and Thatch were the only ones left in charge. Thatch started keeping me company not only when I was outside, but even when I sleeped, just to keep an eye on me and be sure that I didn't do anything funny. 

"Yennow lass" said one evening, a bit drunk "I saw Vane some days ago. That bilge rat is in the worst mood ye could ever imagine, me word. He's been cracking Jenny's teacup, drinking gallons of rum and attacking too many ships, even for a man like him. They told me about your 'adventure' with the man; I swear I wanted to blow the man down. Even though I'm sorry for ye, but I'm also glad it ended quickly. Charles has some good qualities, I have to admit it; batten down the hatches, though: that man's emotions are too strong for any average person to accept, and his passions can easily overwhelm anything and anyone around him. It could have ended much worse than it actually did, with him". 

I didn't even turn my head, and kept giving him my back, pretending to be asleep, even though we both knew I wasn't; I kept my face against the cushion and words to myself. 

"This, nonetheless, doesn't erase the fact that he does love you. I know what he sait to ye, he himself told me (even though the man had an obvious grog blossom) and the Kidd confirmed everything he had witnessed while on the Ranger. I never saw him as devastated as I've seen him when he was talking about ye; he feels something really strong for ye. But ye can't believe me now, can ye, lassie? He's the only one who can redeem himself in yer ears; that is why I asked him to come here. Should arrive tomorrow morning".

I finally turned around, looking at the man as if I was trying to understand something I could only hope I had misheard. He was sitting there, in the chair next to my bed, toying a little with the almost empty bottle in his hand and looking at it. When he noticed I was looking at him, he stopped his motion and stared at me; "Ye heard me right: he's coming here first thing tomorrow morning". I didn't say a thing, and just went back to sleep, trying to forget everything.

The next morning came too quickly, and so did Vane; he came before the sun rose, so it was still pretty dark in the room, but I immediately recognized his boots. I was paralyzed when I saw those walk past the entrance of the bedroom. I immediately buried myself under the bed sheets, not giving him even the chance to look at me; I didn't want him to see me vulnerable. 

"Thatch, ye old drunkard!" he says, and an awful stench of alcohol reaches every corner of the room. "Me bucko! Drunk as usual, aren't we?" Thatch greets him back. Then the attention goes to me: "Hi Eveline" he says with sorrow, sitting next to me. I keep quiet and stay in my position. He then removed the bed sheets from me, and lowered his face close to mine. I immediately slapped him, making him back away. I don't think that it really hurt him, it was more of a heart pain for him, looking at me and knowing that I hated him that much.

He brought a hand on the cheek I slapped, and didn't say another thing. "This is yer fault too, bucko" Blackbeard said, looking at him. "Go to hell, Thatch!" he shouted, and then got up and went away without a word. Thatch even tried to follow him, but Vane was too quick for him and left the house in less than two minutes. 

"Oh, that bilge rat!" said Anne, coming inside the room and covering me again, trying to comfort me. "He'll come back, trust me on this. A slap isn't gonna stop Charles Vane's will" was the only thing the old pirate replied.


	19. "I'm no bird"

Thatch was right: after three days from that brief encounter, Vane came back to visit me, and from then he spent every single day by my side. That disgusted me, but there wasn't really a thing I could do to stop him, so I just resolved in ignoring him. 

The first days he just sat next to me, drinking rum, not saying a thing and just looking at the bed. Then he started shouting against the bed covers that all of this was my fault, that I was the problem, not him; I wanted to defend myself, but kept everything to myself and just let the man talk by himself. The next phase consisted in his pleads, hoping to finally get me to at least look at him; that, of course, didn't happen. the last phase was to just sit, drink something and tell me anything that happened after I left the Ranger. He was exhausted and resigned to my silence, and didn't even demand to look at me like the first days. 

One day he just came really early, and I was still sleeping; of course I usually woke up to the faintest sound, and his steps woke me immediately, but he couldn't tell, since I was still completely hidden inside the bed covers. I was cautious of his every movement, as I didn't want him to even try to touch me; even though my knife had been taken away from me in order to avoid the umpteenth suicidal attempt, I wasn't afraid to hit him with everything I had a second time. 

"Ye saved me lass, and it hurts me to see that I can't save ye. True, this situation is me fault, but what did ye expect me to do? I still have a reputation to keep. I am the most feared corsair of the Caribbean sea, I can't just go around being all soft with a cute lassie like ye. I was doing it for me, and for ye too!".

Those words angered me beyond any limit, so I just got up. Of course my legs couldn't work well, since I didn't walk anymore, but I wanted to try everything in order to get away from that despicable man. I immediately fell on the ground, but that didn't stop me; I leaned on the floor with both hands and somehow managed to get up. My legs were all wobbly, so I had to lean myself against the wall and slowly walk away from there. I was very slow, so I couldn't really escape from the man, that was easily following me, just as if he was mocking me. I desperately tried to reach out for the terrace, but the door was hard to open, due to the encrusted salt on the wood of the door; it required a bit of strength, but after some struggle I managed to open it, and of course I fell forward, as I was all leaned against that door. 

Vane immediately ran by my side, trying to help me to get up, but of course I scratched his hand as soon as he got it near me. He tried to touch me a second time, and this time I scratched his face. He looked at the little drops of blood that were falling on the wooden floor of the terrace, and looked at my figure with anger; then he took my wrists and forced them on the ground, on either side of my head. He was towering over me, but I kept fighting; then he put his knees between my legs, making my efforts to kick him useless. 

The sunlight immediately struck my face, forcing my eyes to squeeze. He looked at my face and almost dropped his jaw in dismay. "What happened to yer face? Yer beautiful face used to be so warm and pink, and now it's so pale and sick it makes me heart ache just from looking at it. Where did my fairy go? Ye're not Eveline" he said with grief. I didn't answer and just turned my face on one side, avoiding his ocean blue eyes once again. 

He gently lowered himself over my neck, sharply inhaling my scent. "I missed yer scent, lassie. No matter how hard ye tried to disguise yerself, this scent has always been intoxicating for me". He put my hands over my head, pinning them on the ground with just one of his, and with the other he brought a strand of my long hair to his nose, and then gently kissed it. "Oh, Eveline!" he quietly sighed. I didn't know what to do, so just stayed still under his grip. Then with one of his knees he rubbed against my legs, earning a moan I couldn't keep to myself; he chuckled and turned my face, lowering his to the point that his breath was tickling my lips. 

"That foolish Kenway still hasn't touched you, ey? Damned bastard. _'Too young for me'_ he says. _'I would never touch her'_ ; horseshit, I tell ye. All these years he had ye, the fairest of the mermaids, all for himself and didn't even dare to get close to ye, while I could only watch from far away. Ye have no idea of how badly I've been yearning for ye these years, of how I wanted to touch ye and to kiss ye. When we were on the Ranger it was really difficult to keep my hands to myself whenever I was around ye. And that day that Kenway made ye blush I was furious, because I wanted to be the one that makes you blush all over yer pretty face. I want to keep you all for myself, like a bird in a cage, and make you sing only for me; I would never let ye go, ever!"

"But ye did let go of me" I whispered.

Vane seemed relieved to have finally made me talk; he gently lifted me up and put me on the chair I usually sat on when I could go out. "I had no choice! People started to question my authority as captain! And they were referring to ye as a common _bailarina_ ".

We were again very close, forehead against forehead and noses brushing against each other, and he gently laid a hand on my cheek; I immediately turned my head away, escaping from his delicate touch. I didn't want to fall for his devilish tricks once again, so I gathered all the willpower I had to keep my mind focused on what the man had done to me. He was keeling in front of me, and I could tell that he was holding something back as well.

"Listen, lass. I want to say this once and for all, and then ye can go back to hate me if that's what yer heart desires. Just this once. I love ye, I love ye so much that parting from ye made me heart bleed. I don't want to let go of ye ever, ever again. Come with me on the Ranger; ye'll be so good for me, and I am sure that I can be a better person with ye around. Ye are me medicine, the balm to me soul". While whispering this confession, he gently strokeed my hair, and a single tear rolled down on my cheek. He dried it with his thumb and gently kissed me on the same spot. 

"Let me go" I meekly uttered.

"Ye know I can't"

"Charles, I am sick. I won't last long, and I want to spend the rest of me days in peace, far away from you".

"Down to the depths that damned consumption! I don't care if ye'll live three days or two years, I want to spend the rest of our lifes together!"

"I'm no bird, Charles Vane!" I shout exhasperated, removing his hands from me.

"I know Eveline, but I simply can't live without ye! Hell, I want ye for me because the single thought of ye in Kenway's or anyone else's hands makes me blood boil!".

"I have feelings, too! And ye don't love me, I'm just a doll to play with in yer eyes!"

"Aye, yer feelings are so strong that I want to protect ye at all costs! I can't bear to see ye cry because of someone who isn't me!".

My lower lip started trembling, and I bit it to hide the fact from Vane; then I inhaled deeply and replied: "When ye left me, I loved ye! Not Kenway, but ye! I trusted ye deeply, because ye showed me a side of ye I never thought existed! Ye were so good to me, so kind and caring that I couldn't believe that the man in front of me was the feared Charles Vane! And yet ye left me, ye made me heart bleed ten times worse than Kenway!".

This confession seemed to startle him; he froze on the spot, and just kept staring at my trembling figure.

"What's worst is the fact that I still love ye, even though ye took me heart and threw it to the sharks!" I said after a silent pause.

Silence again.

Then he turns my face towards his once again, and starts kissing everywhere, from my forehead to my cheeks and my nose, while whispering softly "I love ye".

I wanted to put up a fight, but just couldn't. I let him prevail over me, I let him destroy the wall I had built in months with his kisses all over me. 

He then stopped a few inches from my lips, and said: "Say that ye'll be mine".

My heart was pounding so loudly that I was sure he could hear its beats, and I squeezed my eyes shut, while whispering: "I'll be yours".


	20. "Welcome back"

I couldn't understand how the man was able to do this to me. How was he able to get me so easily, even though I still hadn't forgiven him? How was he able to leave me weak and breathless when I was supposed to hate him?

It didn't matter anymore, I didn't care about anything that didn't involve his lips and his hands all over me. I wanted him to touch me, to kiss me and taste every bit of my body. He was able to make me feel pretty even though I didn't consider myself an attractive woman. I mean, he was surrounded by beautiful young girls in Nassau that would have gladly shown him their pants, if they ever had the opportunity. After all, his looks were second only to Edwad's deep blue eyes and golden hair, that made him look like an angel. And yet here the handsome pirate was, holding tight the mess that I was.

He was frantically touching me everywhere, as if he wasn't able to keep his hands to himself and needed to feel me. His tongue was leading mine in a sloppy and seductive dance, sometimes making our teeth clash. My head was spinning and my skin was burning, and his skilled hands were making me moan more and more; of course I wasn't his first, and I noticed immediately given how he was making me feel just by touching me.

I was at my limit, about to beg him to make the next move when the creak of the door made us turn our faces, reluctanlty interrupting what we were doing. It was Anne.

"Blimey! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she apologized a bit too loudly, closing the door away.

Of course the mood had been immediately switched off.

Charles stood up and helped me as well, slowly accompanying me inside. Once again I was lying on the bed, just like when he walked him two hours before; it had felt like just two minutes from when we both went outside.

He then said had some business to attend to, obviously trying to escape the awkward situation, assuring me he'd come again the same evening and promising that he'd take me out for a walk, just to help my legs get used to walk on their own again.

Anne came back, bringing in my breakfast. I still was in trance, thinking of him and of what I wanted him to do to me. I came back to my senses when she lied the tray on my lap, showing her a bright red face. She looked at me and burst out laughing.

After a few minutes she finally stopped it, much to my relief, and spoke: 

"Welcome back Eveline, I've missed ye a lot"

I shily smiled and thanked her.

She smiled back and added: "Well, I see things got better with Vane as well. Can't say I'm very happy, since I still think he's no good news for ye, but if he makes ye happy, I'm ok with it. Plus, I'll blow the man down if he ever hurts ye again. Ye're already sick, don't want to add more problems now, do we?"

I looked at the cup of tea that was lying on the tray, thinking about my life. True, I was very sick and my illness had already worn out my body; it's true that everyone found out quickly enough to take care of it, but it still would have killed me from the inside day by day, and the thought that someone I loved would have to put up with all of it just for the sake of having my love was disheartening.

Anne looked at me, lost in my thoughts, and brought me back to reality: "Well, there's only one thing we can do. We try to take care of it as best as we can, so ye can live long enough. Ye're very strong, and have survived many things, so I'm sure ye won't die soon"

I could only nod and hug her, finally letting go of all the grief and the pain I had felt and caused in those months; then I whispered: "Sorry for putting ye through all of this, Anne. I have been very selfish and brought ye down even though ye didn't deserve one bit of what I did! Ye've always been so good to me, my dearest friend"  
I felt her shaking, like she could finally release all of her pain. I happily accepted her and her tears, holding her tightly and just letting her cry over my shoulder.

A few minutes passed and she sniffled, drying her eyes. Then put her hands on my shoulders, and smiled at me.

"Rest a bit: ye have to be pretty for him tonight. I'll wake ye up later, and help ye clean yerself and adjust a bit. Ok?"

"Okay. Thank you"

"No problem. Now eat a bit and sleep tight"

I obliged, eating a bit and drinking all the tea, which made me very proud because it was a progress. Then laid back and closed my eyes, drifting immediately away.  
Anne woke me up hours later, and helped me to clean myself. Then she combed my hair and put some colorful flowers on the tiny braids that went from my temples to the back of my head, where they were tied together and fell straight on my back, alongside the other strands of hair; in the meanwhile, I was tying on my chest the soft and silky laces of the pretty red dress she had bought me for this occasion. This woman was truly caring, and the thought of what I had done to her until the previous day made me want to cry, but I didn't shed a single tear, because I felt it would have been direspectful and selfish.

When we finished she brought me another cup of tea and something to eat; I was too nervous to eat, so I just drank.

A few minutes later, we heard a knock on the door. It was Vane, of course.

Anne opened the door, smiling at him and leaving us alone. He looked at me, making me feel anxious about my looks.

"Ye're... Ye look very pretty tonight, lassie" he said.

I thanked him a bit embarassed.

He then carried me bridal style to the door, and a wonderful twilight greeted us. Right out of the house he put me back to my feet, allowing me to gain balance. It was a hard task, but with his hand on my waist to help me I managed to do it.

I was standing still, and his icy blue eyes raked over my body inch by inch.

"Such a pretty, pretty thing" he said, taking one of my hands, bringing it to his lips.

"So ravishing" he continued, kissing my wrist and then going up my arm.

I stopped him immediately, since I was already feeling hot and sweaty with anticipation, spurting out a: "Hey stop! This is not the place, plus I'm very nervous" so quickly that I myself barely understood what I was saying.

He let go of my hand, stood right beside me and offered me his arm while looking in front of him, so that I could see his handsome profile. I looked at his stiff figure, noticing that he had trimmed a bit his wild beard, combed his hair and washed himself, and smiled at myself at the thought that the fearsome Charles Vane was as nervous as I was about all of this. Still smiling, I leaned on him and put my arm around his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this was intended to be a smut chapter; I'M SO SO SORRY. I am a huge ass procrastinator and I'm not gonna deny it, but I swear I just couldn't resist the opportunity that a friend of mine kindly suggested (she's as sick as me and ships the hell out of them, so of course we both wanted to make this last a little longer). Tried to make things even with some steamy makeout session, not sure of the result tho.


	21. Undressing

The sky was coloured in a pretty orange with some golden tones, making everything look like a dream. Charles' path was quicker than mine, but he kept going as slowly as he could, allowing my feet to catch up with his. With my arm still around his, I leaned my head on his shoulder, inhaling his strong scent. He quickly looked at me, but didn't say a word.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"Anywhere ye want to, lassie. Tonight's all about us and what we want to do" he answered.

I felt a bit nervous thinking of what he was implying, but the fact that it was him and no one else reassured me. As long as it was Vane, everything was just fine.

It felt like it was yesterday that I wrote the letter to Anne, telling her my plans to save Edward. _Yeah, Edward_. I thought of him too, as we walked. I had finally let go of my feelings for him, and took a turn for the better. It's true that I went through a lot for Charles, too, but it felt like we shared a special bond, and everything I went through was nothing in comparison to us walking alongside, with our hearts finally at peace.

_What did we ever do to deserve this much good just from each other's company?_

I think that not in a hundred years someone could ever feel like we were right in this moment.

The pretty sunset slowly disappeared, leaving us beneath a starry sky. Everything was dark, and it felt almost like we were walking among those pretty stars, in an endless sky all around us. It became a bit chilly, so Charles put his heavy coat around me, surrounding my figure in his warmth and his gunpowder and rum scent, that I deeply inhaled while closing my eyes.

We walked on the cool sand, and settled on a little shore hidden among the trees that apparently Vane had discovered while exploring the island during these days, when he wasn't with me. The moonlight made the sea in front of us shine like silver, and the sand under our bodies pitch black, like charcoal. Charles lit a bonfire, allowing my bare feet to warm up, and then put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

"I'm sorry for everything, Eveline" he said, breaking the silence between us.

"I know. It doesn't matter anymore, now. Everything's gone" I told him, shaking my head.

"Nay, it's not. I know for a fact that ye're inclined to forgive everything done to ye no matter what, but I don't want it to be this way with us. Ye were right to be mad at me, and I know that I don't deserve the tiniest bit of yer love, nor yer forgiveness. And yet, her I am asking ye to still accept me" he replied.

I turned myself to look at him, and put my hands on his cheeks, reassuring him: "Charles, it's ok. Everyone makes mistakes, and I have done quite a few myself. I hurt everyone around me becuse of my selfishness, and just couldn't accept the fact that they were just genuinely worried for me. I have been ungrateful to Edward, who kindly found me and offered me a warm bed and food, exhasperated James, forcing him to leave me, and put Anne through hell just because I wanted my illness to take me away as quickly as possible. Don't ye think I made some bad mistakes? And yet, everyone forgave me. And I am willing to repay such kindness in full. That's what I am devoted to. What about ye?".

He closed his eyes for a second, feeling my touch on his face, then put his warm hands over mine, and opened his eyelids once again, looking at me.

"Yer hands are so cold" he just said.

I shyly smiled and replied: "I _am_ cold".

His face got closer to mine, and his eyes showed me exactly how he wanted to warm me up. I slightly parted my lips and stared right back at him, waiting for everything he was offering.

He finally closed the space between us, and kissed me deeply. His hands went immediately on my waist, pulling me on his lap. I let him move me while just kissing him back as passionately as he was.

_We were both waiting for this, we both needed this._

His hands slowly went up my bodice and stopped at my covered breasts, slowly feeling them through the thick fabric of my dress. I quietly moaned in his mouth while my hands settled on his neck, pulling him even closer to me. 

He then proceeded to untie the laces on my chest, and lowered the dress so that my shoulders were now bare. He broke our kiss, allowing me to breathe, while his mouth went on my neck, kissing it and gently biting it, and slowly went to one of my shoulders. I kept moaning, tangling my fingers on his hair, silently begging him to continue, while his hands were gently caressing the exposed part of my back.

Then he moved his tongue along my clavicle, and delicately kissed lower and lower, going for my breasts.

His hands were gently tugging at my dress, trying to get me even more exposed; I started to feel a bit self-conscious, as he had never seen me without clothes, scared of what he could think of my naked form. _Would he laugh at me?_

He saw my concern, and kissed my cheek, then went for my ear, and whispered softly: "Ye're perfect, lassie. A goddess in a human body, with yer delicate skin and yer perfect figure. Let me see ye, let me admire ye in all yer beauty". I trembled a bit when he licked the shell of my ear, and allowed him to continue.

With a single tug my dress was now on my legs, and my upper body was completely exposed to Vane's touch and gaze. 

"So perfect" he just said, while cupping my breasts with his hands.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, focusing on his touch on my body.

Then he lowered his face on my chest, inhaling my scent and listening to my heartbeat. His beard was tickling my skin, and his hot breath was making me shiver. Then he put one of my nipples in his mout and sucked it, while his mouth was skillfully drawing circles on my sensitive area and driving me crazy. My hands went on his shoulders and my back arched, and I felt my insides burn with desire.

His fingers delicately traced my back, as if he was touching the most delicate silk, and went down, until they slipped inside the dress and cupped my ass. That felt so good, he was making me feel so pretty and so desired, and I knew that he could make me feel even better. And so he did.

He let go of my body, making me cry a little for the sudden lack of heat and attention from his mouth, and put my legs around his waist and my arms aroun his neck, telling me to hold onto him for a bit.

I did, and my naked form was tightly against his muscled one, making me remember the time I washed him and saw his chest; my face went immediately red, thinking of his godlike body.

He put his coat on the sand, and lowered me over it.

Then he went for my dress, since it was still covering my hips and my legs, and completely stripped me out of it. The only article of clothing left on me were my panties, and even though they covered my womanhood, they didn't hide my arousal from him, as they were soaking wet. I istinctively closed tightly my legs, a bit embarassed.

He chuckled with his low and husky voice, amused by my embarassment, but didn't say a thing.

He kissed one of my knees and slowly went down my shin, while his hands gently caressed my thighs. Then his mouth stopped on my ankle, gently nibbling the skin and making me shiver, distracting me from his hands that were now on my knees and forced my legs to spread open.

I felt the cool air and tried to close my legs, but his hands kept them apart, and before I could do anything, he lowered his face and licked the inner thighs, making my back arch once again. My pussy was soaking wet and burned with desire, painfully aware of how close Vane's mouth was to the center of my pleasure.

He tried the same trick to remove my undergarments, but even though this time I noticed his hands delicately going for the waistband, I let him do whatever he wanted to, completely surrending to both his and my needs.

He delicately removed them, slowly revealing my bare skin inch by inch, admiring my forms with desire.


	22. Beneath a starry night

His breath was hot on my skin, and my womanhood ached.

"C-Charles, _please!_ " I begged him, not sure of what I was asking him to.

Vane just looked at me, and then went for my pussy, gently licking the moist opening. I moaned loudly, showing my appreciation, and then grabbed my hips and started sucking on my clit, making me almost scream. 

He licked around the bundle, then up and down, with a steady pace that made me roll my eyes in the outmost pleasure. 

As I felt my thighs tremble on their own, he kept stimulating my clitoris with his fingers, while he penetrated me with his tongue, drinking me as if I was the most delicious rum he ever had.

"Oh _God, **GOD**_!" I screamed, putting my hands on his head and scratching his scalp, urging him to go faster and deeper.

He willingly obliged, and his fingers were mercilessly toying with my bud while his tongue was still inside of me, making my muscles clench around his mouth.  
I focused on the amazing feeling between my legs and just let myself go; I arched my back and tied my legs around his shoulders, and came hard while screaming his name, making a mess of his face with my juices.

He removed my legs once my orgasm ended, and cleaned his glistening mouth with his arm.

I was panting and shivered in the aftermath of that amazing feeling, and just lazily looked at the handsome figure above me. I rose my arms and put them behind his head, gently pulling his face to my chest, and he winced a little, as if he was in pain.

Not understanding what was the problem, I just asked: "What's the matter?".

"Uh - nothing, really. Glad ye enjoyed our little game" he said smiling.

He then got up, and I immediately understood. He was painfully hard in his trousers, obviously aroused by the whole situation. Then I decided that it was time for me to make him feel good.

I put my figure over his, making him fall back so that this time around his body was on the coat, and my hands went for his trousers, trembling and making it a difficult task to untie them. After some work, I managed to remove his trousers and his undergartment, revealing a big twitching penis. Of course he was well endowed. I swallowed hard, and lowered my lips, but he put a hand on my hair, stopping me.

"That, uhm, might be something we'll have to skip this time, lass" he said a bit flustered.

"But I want ye to feel good as well" I replied.

"I'm sure of it, but I think that I might be a bit too big for ye". He was genuinely concerned about my well-being.

I kissed him and smiled. "Charles, I want to do this. We'll figure this out".

He grabbed my arm and said: "At least let's do something that will feel good for the both of us. We'll have plenty of time for everything else". Then he removed his shirt, revealing his hairy chest and his toned muscles.

I kept staring at his body for some seconds, enticed, and then nodded and shifted myself a bit, positioning my cunt on his cock. He tightened a bit his grip on my arm, concern painted all over his face. I looked at him while gripping his manhood and slowly lowered myself. It immediately hurt, as he was indeed too big for me, but I held back my tears and slowly kept going down. He showed his teeth and closed his eyes throwing back his head, trying to resist the urge to do anything and just allowing me to take my time.

"H-hell, Eveline, you're-you're _too tight!_ " he hissed; with his chest going furiously up and down, he breathed quickly while groaning loudly.  


Blood began to flow between our legs, finally marking me as his and his only.

I was halfway through when he rose his head and looked at me with his teeth clenched and his hungry eyes; he put his hands on my hips and with a single moves lowers me all the way. I didn't even have time to feel the pain, but it began to hurt once my skin slapped against his, making me cry. Still frantically breathing, he apologized:

"S-sorry, but I - oh, **God** \- I can't take it anymore!".

I sobbed and didn't say a thing, still trying to pull myself together. After a few seconds I could finally feel a bit better, and moved a bit upwards, with my legs trembling like crazy. He noticed that I was a bit troubled, so he put a hand ond my back, rose and turned himself, switching positions and gently putting me down, while I just spread wider my legs, allowing him more access.

He slowly began to pull out, while I squeezed shut my eyes, forcing myself not to think about the pain, that was starting to leave space to pleasure, anyways.  


He went deep in again, and I opened my eyes with surprise, only to find an apologetic look on his face; he was still holding himself back, I was sure of it, and I wanted to do my best as well.

He kept going in and out, and soon pleasure washed away every pain I felt, changing my winces to moans, to the point that my hips started rolling back, showing Charles that I was finally ready.

His pace increased a bit, but he still wasn't going rough on me, worried about my body, even though I was panting and crying under him. I covered my face with my arms, trying to hide the lewd expression I was making, but he removed them immediately, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand.

"Ah! - I want to see yer expressions".

"But - Ah! - I am - **AH!** \- I am making an - _Aaah!_ \- embarassing face!".

"Ye're not - ye're _not_ ".

Then with his free hand he gripped my knee and put my leg against my body, and increased his pace; our skin slapped obscenely as he finally went rough on me, and I couldn't do anything except for screaming loudly his name and begging him for more.

" **I'M CLOSE!** " I shouted after some minutes.

He let go of my leg and my wrists, allowing me to wrap my arms and my legs around me, while he put his arms around my waist and kept pounding inside me.  
I felt the now familiar clench of muscles on my womanhood and the burning feeling, and I cried with satisfaction: 

"Oooh yes, I'm coming! _I'M COMING!_ "

"M-me too!" he replied.

I finally felt the spasm of my orgasm take me over, and felt Charles' cock filling my insides.

We both laid on his coat for some minutes, hugging each other enjoying the aftermath of our orgasms. 

We kept looking at each other, and lazily kissing each other.

"I love ye, Eveline".

"I love ye too, Charles". 

After that, I felt tired and just fell asleep, wrapped around his arms and lulled by his heartbeat.


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little epilogue to conclude our journey.

Some time after that night, Charles finally asked me to marry him. Of course, I immediately accepted. Even though everyone was a bit reluctant, I got their blessing.  
I did everything I could to make ammends to those I had hurt, firstly Anne and Mary, and then Edward and everyone else. It took some time, but I was forgiven by everyone at the end.

We got married after a few months in a small church in Nassau, and set sail immediately after the ceremony. We wanted to see new places and spend all the time we could together.

Two years later we came back to Nassau, as we got the news about Mary's death after giving birth to her daughter. It wasn't an easy job, but we found her and decided to keep her with us. We called her Mary James, in honour of her beautiful and brave mother.

This seemed to inspire Edward to go back to England to his own daughter; we never really heard him ever since, but whenever he is, I'm sure he's a great father and a wonderful husband for the lucky woman he's married to.

Thatch died a few months before Mary during an ambush. Every pirate in Nassau mourned his death for days, as he was like a father figure to everyone on the island.  
But the good news is, Roberts is dead.

One day, I asked my husband: "What was the price you had to pay Roberts for me?"

He smiled and said: "150 Reales".

I was sure he was lying, but never really questioned him ever again after that. You could barely afford a _bailarina_ for that price.

And now, here I am. I have managed to survive longer than anyone expected, but I can feel death drow more near every day; I've lived enough to be happy, so I can't  
really complain.

It seems that 150 Reales really can change someone's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for your patience and support throughout the whole story, it really meant the world! Hope you liked this story. If you did, please feel free to read my other work: Always be polite (it's a Hannibal Lecter ff, but I promise I'm working on the translation of another AC ff of mine, "London Fairies"). See ya next time!


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